


Whole Worlds Fade

by boomsherlocka



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fix-It, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomsherlocka/pseuds/boomsherlocka
Summary: Their first meeting was not noteworthy. Hux was not yet General, and Ren was not yet what he would eventually become.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 24
Kudos: 74





	1. more luminous than the sun

_ It's the same story told over and over, forever _

Their first meeting was not noteworthy. Hux was not yet general, and Ren was not yet what he would eventually become. He had seemed to be a boy who had not yet grown into his features-- every part of him too-large and unwieldy. He stood behind the Supreme Leader, wearing garments that looked suspiciously like sleeping clothes with his head slightly bowed, large hands clasped in front of him. Feigning a lack of attention. Hux noticed that right away-- the boy's eyes burned with something he barely had under control and his head was cocked ever so slightly. His body sang with tension, he was nearly vibrating with it. 

Hux stood at parade rest behind the General he currently served under-- a man he knew would soon be discarded by Snoke for his weak mind and indecision. He could never answer any of the Supreme Leader's questions to his satisfaction, and Hux could tell that with every evasion the Supreme Leader grew more and more impatient. 

As did Hux. His own chambers were papered in plans. Weaponizing planets, perhaps entire systems. Entire fleets made up of ships equipped to wipe worlds out of the galaxy. He had been designing weapons and aircraft for as long as he could recall. His father had pressed him to choose one discipline and specialize, so most of his schooling had been on developing and training ground troops. When they encountered planets who wished to rebel and not provide their young for training, he would dream of having the sort of weapon that would, once threatened, change their minds. 

So he designed one. Draft after draft, calculation after calculation. He did not trust any technological system to keep these plans secure so he drafted each one by hand, burning each abandoned blueprint to leave nothing behind to be stolen. 

He did not know that his ideas had already been stolen, plucked from his mind like so much ripe fruit. He did know that when General Findran was executed at the point of Ren's unstable saber, those ideas were what got him promoted to a rank that was unprecedented for one so young. They broke ground on Starkiller mere weeks later, the project of his making somehow out of his hands and his greatest source of pride simultaneously. Captain Phasma was left in charge of the Stormtroopers and General Hux was left in charge of the galaxy, or rather the bits of the galaxy the Supreme Leader had no time for.

By the time Hux made General, Kylo Ren had his helmet and the accompanying accouterments. This was the first time Hux had ever heard him speak. His voice was modulated, of course, but it was steady and deep. There was humanity in the cadence.

"Rise, General," the Supreme Leader commanded, waving a dismissive hand. Ren had never knelt in the first place, an ever-present specter at Snoke's side. 

As Hux stood, he heard Ren's voice. "The Supreme Leader has requested that I observe the construction of Starkiller and report back to him directly. I will require chambers on your ship." 

Hux bristled. "Supreme Leader, I can assure you that I will update you on the progress however often you'd like. There is no need to send your bodyguard..." Hux's words were cut short when he felt an invisible hand tighten around his throat as he was lifted up off the ground. 

Though his vision was blurry, he could see Ren's arm raised, his fingers curled. "I am not a bodyguard," Ren said, his voice deceptively calm as his fingers curled in even tighter. Hux's toes scrambled for purchase against the floor but there was none to be had. 

"Enough," Snoke growled, and as suddenly as he had been seized Hux was dropped to the floor in an undignified heap, gasping for air. "My apprentice has reached a point in his training that required his absence from me to continue his training. He will do so with your crew, General." 

Hux pushed himself to his feet, willing his instinctual panic to subside as he took gasping breaths. "Yes, Supreme Leader," Hux rasped, his throat still on fire. 

"Report back to the  _ Finalizer _ ," the Supreme Leader commanded. Ren moved forward at this command, his new cloak billowing behind him. Hux moved on shaking legs, not willing to let this petulant child lead him back to his cruiser. 

"If you ever feel the need to use force against me again," Hux began, his voice was painful but firm, "you bloody well had better do it with your bare hands and not the Force." They were well away from Snoke's receiving chambers, but perhaps not out of earshot. "Only cowards strike from afar," he snarled. "If you respect an opponent in hand to hand combat you look them in the eye." 

"And if you do not respect them, what then?" Ren asked, his footsteps thunderous behind Hux. "Ah, you use the Force to silence their insolence." 

Hux stilled, forcibly uncurling his hands from fists at his side. "I was promoted by the Supreme Leader because he found me worthy and more than capable to hold rank. You will respect me as long as you are a guest on my ship." 

"Is that why he chose you?" Ren drawled as he blew past Hux, not stopping to engage. "Do not think for a second that you were named General on merit. The Supreme Leader put you there because he wants you there. What you have done carries no weight, it is what you are going to do that interests the Supreme Leader." 

"And how does he know what I am going to do?" Hux asked, scoffing, as he began to walk again. 

Ren was silent for a few paces. "Because I informed him of a vision that I had after meditating prior to our first meeting." 

"Oh yes, visions, such a valuable and fallible tool to rely upon for important military decisions," he grumbled. "What did you see?" 

Ren did not answer that question. Instead he said, "You may not understand the ways of the Force, but there will come a day where you will have to have faith in it. I hope when the time comes you do, General." 

Hux shouldered Ren out of the way to board the cruiser and install himself into the pilot's seat, firing up the engines. When Ren settled into the co-pilot's chair his helmet had been removed and stowed somewhere with his saber. Hux could feel his eyes on him, charting his every move as he prepared the cruiser for takeoff. He reached for the final switch but Ren beat him to it, flipping it with a smug little smile that reminded Hux quite forcibly that he was not so far from being a child, barely restrained and too powerful for his own good. 

Soon enough the smile melted away, but his heavy, inquiring gaze didn't. "You bruise easily," Ren said, apropos of nothing, and Hux tightened his hands on the helm of the cruiser. He would not allow himself to bring a hand up to his neck. 

  
  


**\---**

  
  


Back on the  _ Finalizer _ , Hux would awaken many nights gasping for air, the ghost of a hand still wrapped around his throat. He could feel the hard press of fingertips, the impotent work of his windpipe. 

He did not know if this was Ren or his own subconscious. He did not want to know. 

He rarely saw Ren those first few months. First he had to help Phasma clean up the remnants of a Stormtrooper revolt, then he had to handle the aftermath of a materials shortage during the construction of Starkiller. He had no time to spend on considering Kylo Ren, he had much greater catastrophes to address. 

When the Supreme Leader summoned them both for the first time since Ren's reassignment, Hux was surprised. When Ren sank to his knees beside him at Snoke's feet, he was shocked. 

When the Supreme Leader informed them that they had been tasked to retrieve a map that would lead to the last Jedi, he could feel Ren's determination crashing over him in waves. 

They would find Luke Skywalker before the rebels did. "This I swear, Master," Ren said, his head bowed. 

"Your opportunities to destroy the Jedi are dwindling," the Supreme Leader growled as they stood. 

"There is nothing standing in my way," Ren said, his gloved hand settling on the handle of his saber. "Luke Skywalker will fall.

When Ren said those words Hux believed them, without question. When he learned why there had been so much heat and vitriol lacing those words, he knew that Ren's rage would see them through, would carry them to Skywalker's doorstep. 

It is a unique hatred, being betrayed by someone you love. Realizing that love is, in fact, conditional. That is a betrayal from which one cannot return. 

**\---**

He could hear the blasters behind him, rapid fire over the sound of Phasma's voice. Satisfaction twisted in his core as his decision to use this distant, forgotten planet to test his weapon settled and spread in his mind. 

His resolve to make sure the men who had plotted his demise died a slow and painful death grew. Ren wasn't the only one who could leave smouldering ruins in his wake. 

He was tired of being undermined by useless men who were still loyal to his father. His father had done nothing to deserve such loyalty, after all. He was long dead and deserved much worse. 

He could feel the blood running sluggishly down his face. He blinked blood from his eye and settled down in the belly of the ship, stripping out of his greatcoat and inspecting it. Hopelessly damaged; he would have to commission a new one. 

Ren followed shortly after, watching him with bitter and poorly concealed amusement. "You really are a coward, aren't you?" he asked, pushing his sweat-wet hair back off his forehead. 

"I have no use for beasts that size," Hux said, wincing as he gingerly palpated his scalp. It was bruised quite badly, possibly concussed. "My time was better spent ensuring we were found. Call me a coward if you like, but I can guarantee that I will outlive you. Hesitation does not equal fear, it equals thought. Strategy. Something you aren't well versed in." 

"That's why I have you," Ren replied as he collapsed on the bench next to Hux, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “And your survival isn’t guaranteed, not by a long shot.” 

Ren smelled strongly of the musk of the large creatures he had slaughtered, and what Hux assumed was his own sweat. There were beads of it rolling freely down his jawline and neck, sometimes diverted by a raised fleck of darkened skin. They weren't regular enough or numerous enough to be considered freckles; Hux was well aware of those as he himself was covered in them. Ren's marks were more scattered, almost deliberately placed. They were yet another aspect of Ren's appearance that seemed to have been cobbled together to make a man who was a study in extremes. He kept his hair long to hide his large ears. He couldn't hide his large nose or mouth, and his eyes were dark and intense, mercurial. This was most likely the reason that he clung so tightly to his helmet: his young face was memorable. Impactful. 

Blood dripped onto Hux's eyelashes and he moved to wipe it away. "I can heal that," Ren said, eyes settling on the wound. Hux wasn't sure if that was an offer to do so or simply a statement of fact. 

"Yes, well done you," Hux said through gritted teeth, flinching away when Ren raised his hand. 

Ren's amusement was back. "Afraid I'll hurt you, Hux?" he asked, his hand still and hovering somewhere near Hux's ear. 

Hux scoffed. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?" 

Ren's hand moved again, fingertips skimming Hux's brow before hovering over his head. The dizziness and pain faded by degrees until there was none and Hux could no longer feel the hot creep of blood across his scalp and down his face. "You will live to retreat another day," Ren said. "Thank those beasts for their life force. They are what healed you." 

"I will do no such thing," Hux said, letting his eyes drift closed as he rested his head against the wall. "And I'm serious when I tell you that I will take care of the saboteurs myself. I don't need your interference." 

"I believe you," Ren said simply, lowering his voice as the Stormtroopers and Phasma boarded the ship that would take them back to the  _ Finalizer _ . "Revenge almost makes the betrayal worth it, doesn't it?" 

Hux didn't want to agree with anything that Ren said, and so he said nothing. 

But revenge was worth it. Shooting a terrible man over and over until his body stopped moving was worth it. The radar technician had known what was coming as soon as he had looked up and saw Hux, but Brooks was different. He didn't foresee his own death until he took a blaster to the chest. Watching his anger dissolve into fear then resignation was better than he had expected it to be. When he had orchestrated his father's death it had been a relief, but it had not felt like this. He understood what Ren had meant when he talked about having a creature's life force, molding it and drawing power from it. He felt full to the brim with it as he went back to his chambers. 

He had not considered that Ren would be waiting for him, scrubbed clean and sitting on the end of Hux's neatly-made bed. "You really shouldn't bother changing your access codes to try to keep me out," Ren said, rubbing the palms of his hands against his thighs. 

"I miss that brief period of time when you were unconscious," Hux sighed, but he was not willing to let Ren strip him of this pleasure. "I've had enough of your company for the foreseeable future. Let me have this, just... let me have this moment." 

"I don't have the power to take this away from you," Ren said simply, his lips quirking a bit. "I just wanted to know what it feels like. Righteous revenge. It's bleeding from you like a wound." 

"It must be nice to just leech other people's happiness instead of having to be happy yourself," Hux said, stripping off his gloves and working to unfasten his belt. He had kept the blaster, even though it was not issued to him. He would keep that blaster for the rest of his life. "Leave, Ren, I'm tired and you really only tend to make that worse." 

Ren was silent, watching him for a moment. "You were a very good Resistance sympathizer. Speaking like you knew my parents. Knew me." 

Hux knew he had to tread carefully-- mention of Ren's past were always a cause for concern. "The key to weaving a good lie is to utilize as much truth in the telling as possible. Very little of what I said to Bylsma was a lie. He wanted to trust us, to help us, so I fed him what he wanted to hear. In the process he revealed himself as a rebel sympathizer and he signed his own death warrant, along with the death warrants of every living thing on that useless little planet." 

When Ren spoke he was right behind Hux, so close that Hux was not sure if the voice was in his ear or in his head. "I like the way you lie," Ren said. "You give people hope before ripping it away, then curse them for ever having hope in the first place. It's needlessly cruel, and you enjoy that." 

"Yes, thank you for that evaluation," Hux replied, taking off his cap and tossing it onto his desk next to his comm. "Now go." 

"Ask me to." 

Hux held still, cutting a sharp glance towards Ren. He expected to see something angry, upset at being given an order. Instead there was a new expression, somewhere close to teasing. This was a game to him, one that he was having far too much fun playing to stop any time soon. "In case you have forgotten you are currently in my chambers," Hux said with a tight smile. "I have to do no such thing." 

There was a shift in Ren's expression before he retreated wordlessly. It should have felt like a victory to Hux, however minuscule. 

It didn't. 

  
  


**\---**

Ren kept odd hours. In the rather short amount of time after their learning of the rebels' search for Skywalker, Hux would awaken to the door of his chambers opening and Ren pacing the length of the room. The first few times this occurred Hux had been in bed, sleeping fitfully. Once these occurrences became a pattern he stopped going to bed, instead waiting for Ren's arrival so that he could not be caught in a vulnerable position. Ren had no respect for locked and warded doors, so soon enough Hux found himself constantly on edge. 

"My Knights aren't ready for the raid," Ren grumbled as Hux finished up transmissions on his comm. 

"Our most recent tracking shows interest in Jakku," Hux said, powering down his comm and pushing away from his desk. "We have intercepted orders from the rebel base intended for Poe Dameron. He is expected to arrive in a matter of days. We don't have time to waste hoping your Knights are worth taking. I will go with a squadron of Stormtroopers." 

"If it is known that a General has made landfall the rebels will swarm," Ren replied, his voice much closer than Hux had expected it to be. He forced the tension from his shoulders as he turned towards Ren, who had ceased his pacing and had instead moved closer to the desk. "I will take the troopers. They can engage any combatants while I find Dameron." 

"The Stormtroopers don't answer to you," Hux replied with a shake of his head, rising to his feet so Ren's looming presence was undercut. His juvenile attempts at intimidation could not be effective here, in Hux's own chambers. 

"Then send Phasma to command them," Ren replied, his voice rising. "I can't have you there muddying things. This isn't about your war, this is about ending Luke Skywalker. Scattering the ashes of the Jedi. When that hope is gone it is only a matter of time before the rebels collapse." 

Hux pursed his lips before pointing at the door. "Out. I don't need a lecture from you when I was standing right beside you when the Supreme Leader gave us the order. I heard the same things you heard." 

There was a dull electronic crunch from behind him that could only have been the destruction of his comm, and Hux felt a flare of anger he suppressed. "I know things that you could never conceive," Ren growled, his features flooded in familiar rage. 

Hux scoffed and moved to his wardrobe, preparing for bed. "Fix my comm before you go," he said, his tone deceptively light. "Don't presume to give me orders. I will dispense my troops as I see fit." 

The air in his chambers shifted, somehow swelling and contracting as if it had taken a great breath. He was entombed in a whirlwind of uniforms and bedding, his wardrobe stripped clean and every bit of fabric shredded into tidy little strips at his feet. Ren was already moving to the door. "Fix it yourself," he tossed over his shoulder before exiting Hux's chambers, taking the air with him. 

Droids had to be dispatched to three separate locations to clean up evidence of Ren's tantrums, but in the end he got his Stormtroopers, even though Hux insisted on muddying things. 

That was all he got from Jakku. 

**\---**

The first time Hux ventured to Ren's chambers was the aftermath of Dameron and FN- 2187's escape. He had destroyed a portion of the base and stormed off to his room to lick his wounds. 

Hux had no desire to coddle the man, even though it was most likely in his best interests to do so. He keyed in a command override code and the door slid open. He made to move inside but he was violently drawn forward into Ren's grasp. Combat training had not been his strong suit nor his focus, but it kicked in easily. He brought up his knee to land a blow between Ren's legs, which caught him off guard enough so that Hux could grab hold of Ren's cloak and drive a fist directly into his nose. 

Hux pushed Ren away as he shook his gloved hand, his knuckles aching but his pride intact. Ren tilted his head back as he wiped away a trickle of blood that pooled on his bottom lip. "You have no control over the Force," Hux snapped, feeling his own cheeks heat with anger. "It controls you. If you cannot manage to assemble any semblance of discipline then you are a liability. The First Order cannot bankroll your immaturity. Do I make myself plain?" 

Ren shook his head, stripping off his bloody glove with his teeth. He let it fall to the floor. "I do not take orders from you, Armitage Hux." 

"And I will not continue to play nursemaid to a petulant child, Ben Solo." 

The silence that fell between them was a thing with fangs. Hux could feel his own pulse fluttering in his neck, but he refused to back down. Ren's expression was inscrutable. Blank and slack, like he was no longer there, a deactivated droid. Then he came back online as if there had never been a terrifying bout of nothingness that had overtaken him. His lips twisted into a foreboding sneer. "You have a death wish," Ren said, his tone bordering on incredulous. "That clever tongue will be your undoing." 

"Is this another of your prophecies?" Hux asked, feigning boredom. "I really have no use for your cryptic declarations. I put more credence in my decades of military training." 

"Molded from birth to rise above the inevitable label of bastard Arkanis trash," Ren said, tilting his head a bit. "Proving you are more than a mindless peon and a pretty face. How many men did you bend over for before they would listen to you?" 

Hux didn't flinch. He could not. "I can assure you that nothing you can say is worse than the litany of things I have already heard. When one receives the same beating over and over one develops a tolerance. Bruises, then calluses. Stop digging your fingertips into your own bruises. Dameron is gone and we must press on. Leave the past behind." 

Ren was still studying him, fuming but inert. "What is the status of Starkiller?" he asked as he unfastened his cloak. His lips were still stained red. 

"Starkiller is complete," Hux said, clasping his hands behind his back. "We have been given the order to use it. We will bring an end to the rebels, show them that they have no choice but to acquiesce."

Ren hummed. "I am sure you will make a lovely speech. Are you prepared to become the face of the First Order? The face the rebels use for target practice?" 

Hux clenched his jaw, considering the question. Of course he was ready, he had been ready since his academy days. "Better my face than hiding behind a mask." 

Ren let out a humorless laugh. "Is that what you think I do? Hide?" 

"Is it not?" 

"I am not hiding," Ren said with a shake of his head. "I am becoming." 

Hux had a difficult time suppressing his eye roll but he managed it. He turned and left. 

Neither of them had any idea what Ren was becoming. 

**\---**

Hux held it together until he made it back to his chambers. His hands shook as he removed his cap, tossing it onto his desk as he forced his breathing to slow. Five planets wiped away at his command. The fierce machine that was born from his own mind. Billions of lives extinguished in a matter of seconds. His speech took longer to deliver than the order took to be executed. 

"If you keep going down that road you will never stop." 

Hux's entire body was trembling, his muscles tightening and loosening as if they were being plucked. It shouldn't have surprised him to find Ren in his chambers, spouting cryptic nonsense and doing his best to undercut Hux's success. Success that had nothing to do with Ren. "You have no idea what you're talking about," Hux replied, his voice rough from overuse. "Did you watch?" 

"Every second," Ren replied, almost dismissively. "I might be one of the only people around here who does know what they're talking about." He shook his head, the look on his face pitying. The sight of it flared more annoyance than the anger Hux had expected. "The only difference is you didn't have to look at each one of them in the eye when you killed them. You industrialized destruction. Is that something a coward would do, General?" 

"You know that wasn't what I meant," Hux snapped, peeling his gloves off his trembling fingers to give himself more dexterity to work on his greatcoat's fiddly buttons. "But I really must commend you for listening. I often worry that you just automatically disregard everything I say." 

Ren stepped forward, batting away Hux's hands so that he could unfasten the buttons himself. "Not everything," he said softly. "Occasionally you say something worthwhile." 

"Thank you for that ringing endorsement," Hux replied, looking down at Ren's surprisingly delicate movements as he meticulously worked open Hux's greatcoat for him. It felt otherworldly, like Hux was no longer anchored in his own body. He felt like he was hovering somewhere above the both of them, and his knees began to buckle. 

Ren responded quickly, one of his arms wrapping around Hux to steady him and keep him on his feet. "Not everyone is equipped to handle such power, no matter how often that wielding it is demanded of them," he said, almost gently. 

Hux shook his head, bringing a hand up to shove Ren away but losing momentum as his hand settled against Ren's chest. He could feel the other man's thunderous heart against his palm. Every part of Ren was so large, but Hux took comfort in the knowledge that their viscera were the same. His heart may have felt enormous against Hux's hand, but it was the same size as the heart that lay nestled behind Hux's own ribs. "You don't know the first thing about me," Hux finally said when he regained his voice. 

"You say that to a man who can read your mind," Ren said, moving back enough to slide Hux's coat down his shoulders, letting it fall into a crumpled heap on the floor. "I know more than you'd like me to know, I'd wager. Enough to know just what to say to convince you to do whatever I want." 

Hux huffed out a laugh, holding one of his hands perpendicular to the floor. The trembling had subsided substantially, the clenching fear in his gut loosening. "Am I so easily manipulated?" he asked before he realized he did not want an answer to that question. 

Ren's lips twisted into a little smile. "Today was your first test," he said, his tone light. Conversational. "You should review the broadcast of your speech, see how often it has been viewed. You were fearsome. You brought an end to the Rebellion. You have much to be proud of." 

"Flattery will get you nowhere, you will find," Hux sighed, suddenly exhausted. His adrenaline was wearing thin. He wanted nothing more than to drop into his bed and sleep for days, even though he knew that was not an option. There was much to be done still, and time was of the essence. "Now go. I have no further use for a valet." 

"You can't tell me that being congratulated on your life's work being a success is not an unnameable pleasure," Ren said, his tone angry even if his words were not. "When flattery is well deserved it will get you everywhere." 

"And where are you trying to get with it?" Hux asked, feeling his stomach flip as soon as the words had left his mouth. 

Ren's eyes were dark as they studied his face, somehow even darker than usual. "Come here, General," he finally said, something sharp and needy in the cut of him. 

"Why?" Hux asked, hating the petulance that even he could hear. 

Ren's hand hadn't even been completely lifted and Hux was moving forward. He came to a sudden stop when Ren's hand found purchase on his throat, the space between his thumb and forefinger slotted snugly against Hux's Adam's apple. He did not tighten his grip, however, which came as a pleasant surprise. "Because I asked you to," Ren replied, his eyes narrowing in amusement. He looked like a child holding a new toy for the first time who had decided he would rather break it than play with it-- that destruction was much more fun than creation. 

"There was no asking involved," Hux said, lifting his chin a bit before swallowing thickly. Ren's grip did not give. "You commanded when you have no authority to do so." 

Ren studied him for a moment, and Hux became aware of a pressure behind his eyes, a pressure he had noticed before but had laid off on stress. In a way, it was. "Did you think your mind was impenetrable to me?" Ren asked. "That I was unaware of your disdain? You telegraph it with every curl of your lip, every word you spit. You have called me every bad name you have ever encountered in your mind. Your thoughts are shot through with me like a cancer. Have you ever stopped to consider why? Why here, on the happiest day of your life, you still feel the need to press? The answer is right here in your mind, but I am unsure if you are aware of it." 

"That's the difference between you and me, Ren," Hux said, trying to step back out of his grasp but finding himself unable. "There is no filter that keeps what you think from tumbling out of your mouth. Some things are meant to die as thoughts." 

"You don't believe that," Ren said very slowly, pulling his hand back. "And least not about this. Snoke compared you to an abused dog, do you know that? One that can only be kicked so many times before it bites back." 

"He has seen my record," Hux said, his eyes narrowing for a moment. "I know you don't see the use in me, Ren. How often you've complained, tried to have me removed from my position. You want me out of your way. How else am I to respond to that? You find me incompetent. You aren't the only one. There are countless holdovers from the Empire who see me and resent that one as young as me and as inexperienced as me holds the position I have. You know this, you've been present for assassination attempts. The greatest pleasure I have known before today was taking their executions into my own hands. I will do whatever it takes to maintain control over what I am meant to control, Ren. You will not stop me. You cannot stop me." 

"You see yourself as Supreme Leader," Ren said darkly. "You will never be." 

Hux didn't respond to that statement. Ren may have seen his future, but that did not change the fact that he lied. He wasn't as good at it as he thought he was. Hux retreated to his fresher, turning it on full blast as he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red, wild. Bright. He scrubbed his skin viciously until it burned, and when he finally finished Ren had left his chambers. 

He turned off his comm and turned out the lights. 

Everything seemed like too much. 

  
  


**\---**

  
  


Han Solo's face was slack in death, his eyes eerily half open and limbs akimbo on the cot where he had been dumped. Hux was waiting for the all clear to jettison his body into space, and he could not pass up the opportunity to look at the man who had raised Ben Solo, who had then become Kylo Ren. There was a bit of a resemblance: the long face, the large nose. He could imagine Ren's face carrying these lines if he lived long enough to acquire them. His hair shot through with grey, his brow creased from all of his frowns. 

There was hardly any blood, the saber had seen to that. He has been run through and burned inside, overwhelmed with the brutality that his son had dealt him. Hux could barely see the hole that the saber left in his clothes. The dark entrance wound in his gut. 

A wild part of Hux wanted to check the man's pockets. He wasn't sure what he would be looking for: old photographs or a hint to Organa's whereabouts perhaps, maybe even Skywalker. A token of the affection he must have held for his son and estranged wife. He didn't, however. He was certain that Ren would be furious if he did so, Ren who was most likely still furious over the loss of the girl. The girl who was rumoured to be able to control the Force. Soon enough he would set out in search of her, if he had not already done so. 

Some people from medical arrived and started to prepare the body so Hux took his leave, his shoulders growing more and more tense as he approached his chambers. He wasn't sure what he would find when he arrived. Would Ren be there, itching for a fight and ready to storm the surface of Starkiller? Would he be inconsolable over what he had done? Would he be deep in meditation, just as still as his father, who would be by then floating through space? Would he be elsewhere, holed up in his own chambers or in a secluded corner of the ship where even a man as large as him could disappear? 

Hux started to breeze by Ren's chambers but hesitated, his hand settling over the keypad, ready to enter the command override. 

He didn't have to. The door slid open unbidden, revealing Ren's looming presence. The deep black of his clothing was in stark contrast of the bright white of the walls. The lights were up to full brightness, and Hux narrowed his eyes to combat the harsh glare. 

Ren himself was hunched over his work table, glaring down at his saber. It was in pieces, the splintered kyber crystal at its core glowing ominously. "Was it damaged?" Hux asked as he moved forward, surveying the varying parts as he tried to look uninterested. 

"I can find nothing wrong," Ren said, his eyes never leaving his saber laid bare. "The blade is not unstable." 

"You should have that wound seen to," Hux said as he removed his own gloves. He couldn't see much blood, but he knew that the dark fabric would hide the majority of it anyway. 

"There's no time," Ren said, frowning deeply down at his disassembled saber. 

"Then point me towards your med kit so I can bandage it at the very least," Hux snapped. A med kit clattered to his feet from somewhere to his left and he pulled a chair over, opening the kit in his lap. The wound was rather small, all things considered, but it was steadily seeping blood. A bacta pack covered it easily and soon enough the kit was packed away once more. "Was this Han Solo?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer to that question. It wasn't blaster fire, after all. 

Ren tensed but picked up the kyber crystal, taking it closer to the light. 

Hux looked down at the innards of the saber, and a thought crossed his mind, a reckless sort of thought. 

It was a small, inconsequential thing, really. A tracking device that was fastened to the lapel of his uniform, no longer than his smallest fingernail. It was easy enough to remove it from his own uniform and place it against the encasement of the hilt of Ren's saber, where it held fast. Ren was otherwise engaged, but not so lost in his work that he did not notice Hux's wandering hand. "Don't touch what you don't understand," Ren said before letting out a huff of frustration. Hux moved backwards as Ren quickly reassembled the blade as if he had done it countless times before. 

_ Fine _ Hux thought to himself.  _ If it is not the blade that is unstable it is you, Kylo Ren _ . "The light spilling from the sides is on purpose?" Hux asked before he could stop himself. 

Ren lifted the hilt into his hand, tossing it so that the end that flared to life was facing downward. "If someone were to come up behind me there would be a blade in their gut," Ren said before activating the saber to demonstrate. 

"And what, adding the other was for appearances?" Hux asked, willing to let Ren lecture him if it kept him calm. 

"Symmetry," Ren corrected, holding the saber in front of him, observing the blade before deactivating it. 

Ren was silent and still, staring at the saber as if willing it to speak. Hux cleared his throat and watched Ren's shoulders raise, tense. "The rebels have found their answer to you," he said, and he heard Ren exhale in something bordering on relief. "I can find no flaws in your interrogation techniques, it simply seems they are rather skilled at diversion tactics and rescue missions." 

Ren clipped the saber to his belt before moving to gather his helmet. Hux had missed it when he entered, as it had seemed to roll into an unobtrusive corner. Its metal surface was rather badly scuffed, and it was dented in places. It was nowhere near as damaged as the lump of metal that served as a shrine to Ren's revered grandfather, but it was nowhere as pristine as it had once been. There was no way of knowing how many times Ren had thrown his helmet, how often he had used it as a battering ram. He wasn't sure what sort of catharsis was to be gained by damaging something one had built themselves, but it clearly helped Ren settle something in his unquiet mind. "The girl will not be a problem," Ren said. "She is a child with a book that she cannot read. If she does not kill herself accidentally she will be easily extinguished. She has no Master, no way to learn how to harness the power she has. That's why I have to find her. Now." 

"Who is she?" Hux asked, unable to stop himself. "Why was she flying with Han Solo and the traitor?" 

"Why would I have the answer to that question?" Ren asked, his voice bordering on a growl. 

"Because as you have previously stated, you can read minds," Hux explained carefully, the tone of condescension impossible to quell. 

"She was discovered by chance," Ren replied, his back still to Hux. "Anything before her discovering that droid is a boring stretch of surviving on scraps. Even still, they came for her." Ren's fingers curled around the corners of the table as his voice hardened. "If Han Solo had known she was a Force user he would have stayed as far away as possible. He was a coward." The last word was spit like the curse it was meant to be. 

"There is quite a lot of evidence to dispute that statement," Hux said, shaking his head. "It seems to me he fancied himself a pawn- distract you long enough to ensure their plan could be fulfilled. He banked on your heart." 

Ren shook his head. "You know no more about my heart than he did. He didn't see himself as a pawn, he was far too self-important than that. He saw himself as a martyr. He knew how close he needed to get to ensure he wouldn't walk away from me." 

Hux's brow furrowed as he mulled over Ren's words. His certainty. His mind flashed back to Ren huddled over his disassembled saber, desperate to find a fault. "You didn't kill him," Hux said before he could stop himself, a strange, sinking feeling in his gut. "You thought your saber malfunctioned but that isn't what happened. Han Solo fell upon your blade so you didn't have to make that choice, so his blood wouldn't be on your hands." 

Ren was still, his breath picking up. He was a panting, wounded animal, backing into a corner and desperate to land a killing blow. "You don't know what you're talking about," he finally said, his voice low. "And I don't have time for this. We need the girl and she hasn't made it far." 

"Starkiller is preparing to fire again as we speak," Hux said, a bit dazed as he watched Ren prepare for battle. "It's only a matter of time. Forget about the girl, Ren, and get the bloody droid as we were instructed." 

"The droid was your job," Ren snarled before pulling on his helmet. "She is mine. If we have her we have no need of the droid." 

"Careful, Ren," Hux said, but this time the words were not a warning. "You are injured." The fact that he was injured in more ways than one was left unsaid. 

"Worried, General?" Ren asked. Without the benefit of being able to see his face he wasn't sure if Ren was amused or annoyed. "Return to the  _ Finalizer _ and prepare your orders. I will bring the girl to Snoke." 

Ren seemed to hesitate before leaving, his footsteps heavy and sure. Hux followed soon after, destined for the  _ Finalizer _ . 

  
  


**\---**

The raised voices from command echoed hollowly as Hux went to the conference room, his pace just short of running. The troopers stationed on and near Starkiller were in the midst of a retreat, and Snoke had requested Hux's presence personally. 

There was a distinct possibility that Ren was dead. He was a fierce warrior but he was injured and outnumbered on the planet's surface. 

Snoke was not as angry as he had every right to be, as angry as Hux himself was. His life's work was crumbling like the Death Star before it. In trying to fix the faults in a ship, Hux had condemned both a weapon and a planet. 

The loss was unfathomable, but he had no time to consider it. Snoke ordered him to retrieve Ren and bring him to complete his training. 

The fact that Ren was still training was disconcerting, but Hux bowed slightly and went to the docking bay to board a cruiser, where a handful of Stormtroopers were already ready to depart. He made sure the med kit was well stocked before blasting off toward the disintegrating planet. 

He saw fire flaring from the cracking crust, watched as cliffs tumbled into boiling oceans. He followed the flashing beacon of Ren's lightsaber. 

He wasn't moving. This meant he hadn't fallen, at least not yet. 

When they set the cruiser down a great chasm opened up in the ground, separating Ren from the scavenger and the gravely injured traitor. Ren was bundled up and carried off quickly. 

"What about the rebels?" a trooper asked, pointing his blaster towards the pair of them. The planet was crumbling beneath them; blaster fire was unlikely to hit the intended targets. 

"Leave them to die," Hux replied before turning back towards the ship. 

Hux couldn't watch Starkiller’s death throes. Some of the troopers watched and spoke in low tones, none daring to look towards its architect. 

Ren was sprawled out on a stretcher near Hux's feet. He looked diminished somehow, flayed open by a saber and by evidence of that orphan girl's powers. He appeared to be unconscious but one of his gloved hands reached forward, wrapping itself around Hux's boot-encased ankle. 

The grip was tight for a moment, the tingle of reduced blood flow beginning in his toes, but then it loosened. "You saved me," Ren said dumbly, his eyes still closed. One was already well on its way to being swollen shut. He was deathly pale under the blood; Hux wouldn't have been surprised if he was in shock. 

"Snoke requested it of me," Hux replied, his voice pitched low, for Ren's ears only. "He said it is your time to complete your training." 

"He isn't interested in my training," Ren drawled before spitting blood from his mouth. "He's interested in the girl. Luke Skywalker's whereabouts mean nothing now, not with her. Rey." 

"She'll soon be dead, she doesn't matter," Hux said before he could consider why he was attempting to comfort Kylo Ren of all people. 

Ren's smile was bitter. "She's on board the  _ Millennium Falcon _ . By all rights that should be my ship, and she has it." 

"You have far better ships at your disposal," Hux replied dismissively. "Don't concern yourself with that piece of offal." 

"Ships you designed for me," Ren said, his words followed by a huff of laughter. "They won't implode on me, will they?" 

Hux met him with stony silence, closing his eyes so he would no longer have to look at Ren's pale, bloody face. He felt Ren's grip on his ankle tighten and release again. An apology, of sorts, or perhaps a reminder that Hux's life was fully in Ren's hands. 

**\---**

Hours later, when they arrived at the coordinates that the Supreme Leader had provided, Ren had composed himself well enough to hobble down the gangway alone. He did not turn back. 

Hux was proud to see him go, even if he knew that the odds were high that he would see Ren again sooner rather than later. He knew that their entanglement was far from over. As long as the rebels rallied and the Jedi still clung to life, they could not quit one another. 

Hux dug out his comm, went to check his messages. There were too many to even begin to address and so, instead, he booted up the tracker he'd placed in Ren's saber. 

It still functioned. It flashed and crawled forward. 

Ren was there. Moving, yet immovable. Somehow, that brought Hux comfort.


	2. into the void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story earns its explicit rating in this chapter.

_ The most massive stars end their lives rather more spectacularly than gently puffing out a planetary nebula. Instead they can explode so violently that they can briefly outshine the combined light of the rest of the galaxy, and in the process, provide a full spread of heavy elements for the next wave of stars and planets. _

_ Armitage Hux stood in a rare moment of calm overlooking the churning sea of Arkanis, his husband at his side.  _

_ Ben was still, dark eyes scanning the skies as the last rays of sunlight cut through the heavy clouds that promised more rain. "What did you see?" Armitage asked, shielding his eyes as he looked upward as well.  _

_ "An X-Wing," Ben replied, his brow furrowed. "An old one."  _

_ "Why would there be an X-Wing here?" Armitage asked, slipping his hand into Ben's and tugging lightly. "Come on, come inside. I need your help with dinner, you know I'm hopeless when it comes to scaling those fish you brought home."  _

_ Ben's gaze fell to Armitage's face, confusion melting away as his request sank in. Ben smiled. "You are lucky you didn't manage to scale yourself last time. You have to wear those gloves."  _

_ "Show me again," Armitage requested, tugging Ben's hand once more. It seemed imperative that Ben come inside. Something terrible would happen if Ben did not come inside. "Please."  _

_ Ben glanced back upwards. "Why would there be an X-Wing here?" Ben echoed, mostly to himself.  _

_ "It's got nothing to do with us," Armitage said with a tone of finality, bringing Ben's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to his fingertips. "Our debts are paid."  _

_ Ben didn't seem to hear him. He was lightyears away, listening for something that Armitage had no hope of hearing. He cocked his head slightly, brow furrowing deeper.  _

_ "Ren?" Armitage asked hesitantly.  _

_ "What did you call me?" Ben asked, tugging his hand away as he rounded on Armitage, more startled than angry. _

_ Armitage shook his head. "Ben. What I always call you."  _

_ Ben reached down, his hand settling on the hilt of the lightsaber that he had built while he was still in Jedi training. When he left the Jedi to be with the pale, drawn kitchen boy from Arkanis who had volunteered to bypass a busted thruster on the Falcon when Ben couldn't manage it himself, he had considered returning it. He'd even gone so far as to lay it at Uncle Luke's feet, apologizing for his betrayal but not for his love. That he would never apologize for.  _

_ Luke wouldn't take it back. Leia had cried when Ben introduced Armitage to her and Han for the first time, which, of course, had made Armitage fret. "She's happy for us," Ben promised, pressing a kiss to Armitage's temple.  _

_ Han watched them closely, never far from his wife's side. He had retired long ago and begrudgingly passed ownership of the Millennium Falcon to his son. Armitage had spent quite a lot of time making repairs and upgrades, and the ship was in better shape than it had been for a while. Chewbacca had been less than impressed but begrudgingly accepted that perhaps Armitage knew what he was doing.  _

_ They had made their home on Arkanis when Armitage's mother fell gravely ill. She was entombed in a rock structure that Ben and Armitage had built by hand. It always seemed to stay dry no matter how often and how heavily it rained. Armitage knew it was Ben's doing, but he never asked. He enjoyed the magic.  _

_ Ben was still far away, and a sinking fear settled in Armitage's stomach. "I hate it when you do this," he said softly, not expecting to garner a response. "I hate it when you leave me. Come back to me."  _

_ Ben heard him, however, and looked over. Something in his familiar, beloved face had changed, and for a split second Armitage did not recognize Ben at all. Someone else blinked into existence, someone who did not belong here. "This isn't real," Ben said as it began to rain. It didn't take long for Armitage's fine hair to be plastered to his head, wind whipping across the sea and cutting to the bone.  _

_ Ben himself was dry, something that Armitage did not understand. "What is happening?" Armitage asked, but the gale gulped his words. Even he couldn’t hear them. _

_ Ben stumbled back from him. "You brought me here, you..." A shadow crossed Ren's face. A flash of blue lightning lit up the sky and Armitage trembled. Another flash, green this time, and Arkanis trembled. He tried to speak but felt pressure on his throat that was both all-too familiar and frighteningly new.  _

_ Images flashed through his mind unbidden. A raised hand, slowly curled into a fist. The same hand around his throat, over his brow, clinging to his boot.  _

_ Armitage surged forward, blinking salty rain and sea water from his eyes as he reached for Kylo Ren.  _

_ Ren blinked out of existence before his hands found purchase and Armitage was falling to the sodden ground, the growl of thunder and engines and blasters and lightsabers filling his ears.  _

\---

A voice, raspy and painful joined the cacophony and Hux sat up like a bolt, gasping for air and dripping in sweat. 

_ Skywalker _ , it had said. 

At the same time, another voice spoke. This voice was more familiar, cut through with shaking emotions.  _ Luke _ , it had said. 

Hux threw his blankets aside, bringing a hand up to his neck. No bruises, no residual pain. 

Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of bed, threads of the dream already slipping through his mind. By mid day he didn’t remember anything at all. 

\--- 

There was a long stretch in which Hux heard nothing from the Supreme Leader. He submitted his reports as normal, tracked the rebels, and prepared for their next attack, which was planned on D’Qar. They were going to take out one of the rebel strongholds. The attack would come whether or not he had word from Snoke.

His command structure was growing restless, he knew. They had been perverted by doubt-- doubt they had always held but that had intensified when Starkiller had been destroyed. He didn’t need Ren there reading minds to know that mutiny was being considered, but no one wanted to be the first to strike. Many were content to sit back and watch Hux dig his own grave, smug in their knowledge that fire that burns hot and fast is quick to gutter out. 

What they did not consider was the abundance of fuel that kept his fire fed. His drive was limitless, his conviction unshakeable. There was no one in the First Order better equipped to lead this revolution. They must leave the past behind, the overblown and overwrought Empire that Palpatine had propped up for far too long. It was obsolete, replaced by the huge leaps in technology and revamped military training. 

The Force gave men a false sense of superiority, made them feel they were more powerful than someone who didn’t have it at their disposal. It made them cocky. Ren was a prime example of that. Hux was better than him in every way-- better training, better control, better knowledge base. The only ways Ren excelled were in brute strength and in the Force. With the right strategy, both of those things could be beaten. 

The First Order needed a leader who didn’t have this vanity. This misplaced confidence. He was what the First Order needed, but he could be patient. He could wait for the Force users to destroy themselves, for their egos to get in the way of sound decision-making. 

It was only a matter of time. 

\--- 

It was as if the rebels had a death wish, Poe Dameron in particular. He seemed to be approaching communications like they were a game, taunting Hux like they were children in the school yard. The men whose respect for their general was tenuous at best were having a difficult time keeping a straight face. They were relishing in Hux’s perceived humiliation, enjoying his mounting frustrations. He should have blown the puny little pilot out of the sky before the transmission had a chance to connect. 

The rebels were outgunned, but easily underestimated. The fools wouldn’t give up and in their death throes would take out as many First Order ships as possible. Their attention seemed to be on a Dreadnought, and the doomed ship was doing everything in its power to take the gunner down with it. 

Hux supposed that stupidity had its uses. 

As the Dreadnought fell the rebel fleet disappeared, under a barrage of fire one moment and gone the next. The bridge was silent, everyone still as they tried to process what had just occurred. 

Contact from the Supreme Leader was not far behind. Hux wanted to take the transmission in his quarters but the hologram of Snoke’s large, asymmetrical face filled the bridge before Hux had so much as made to move. 

He had hardly greeted Snoke when he was slammed to the polished floor, his head bouncing painfully as Snoke’s voice filled the bridge. 

“My disappointment in your performance cannot be overstated.” 

Hux’s face flamed. They had wiped the rebel base of D’Qar off of the map. They had severely wounded their fleet, and the rebels were on the run with fewer safe places for said retreat. The Supreme Leader was disappointed in his performance? Where was his little lap dog, holed up somewhere still pouting about his defeat? He certainly wasn’t here being of any use.

Hux pushed himself up off the ground. He could feel his crew’s eyes on him and he felt his ears burn with shame. “They can’t get away, Supreme Leader! We have them tied to the end of a string!” 

Snoke was quiet, his sharp blue eyes boring into Hux’s skull as he righted himself, straightening his cap as he silently fumed. Even still, he worked to clear his mind, suppress his anger and his frustrations. There would be time for that later, when the Supreme Leader wasn’t likely to be interested in rifling through his mind. He didn’t want there to be anything there to find. 

Thoughts of his mother, unwarranted and unwanted. 

Damn Dameron. Damn Leia Organa. 

Snoke’s image disappeared but the tension on the bridge remained. “Carry on,” he snapped, meeting the worried gaze of the communications officer who had alerted him of the transmission before looking away briskly. 

There was no time to worry, at least not about Snoke. Not about what the rebels thought they knew about his past or his mother. 

They had no information that he was interested in. His mother had been a lowly kitchen whore whom Brendol had bedded when bored. She had meant nothing to his father and, in turn, meant nothing to Hux. She had likely died on Arkanis in one of the countless attacks from which he and Brendol had escaped. 

The rebels were desperate, grasping at straws. Hux had his father killed, why would he view his mother any differently? She was a child, Brendol’s play thing. Hux couldn’t even recall her face, though he must have favoured her. He looked nothing like his father. 

In his chambers he pulled out his comm, tempted by the thought of pulling up his own file, even though he knew what he would find there. There was no point. There was nothing there, Brendol made sure of that. 

So what could Leia Organa have to say that was so urgent? 

Hux shook his head, putting down his comm. He’d spent too much time considering this already. His time would be better spent considering their next move, so that is what he did. 

He had no time for family he abandoned long ago. 

\--- 

_ Armitage watched Ben through the window. He had gone outside a while ago, frustrated and not wanting to take it out on Armitage. This had been something that they always struggled with; they were both stubborn and had tempers, so when they first began they fought frequently.  _

_ He had always been afraid when Ben raised his voice, and his instincts would kick in.The first time he moved toward Ben, intent on incapacitating him so he wouldn't strike first, his wrists had been caught and squeezed. Hard. "No, we don't do that," Ben said, sounding gutted. Betrayed.  _

_ Armitage had not handled that well. He'd broken down, collapsed at Ben's feet and begged for forgiveness. He had been terrified he would be sent away, that he would have to return to his mother in disgrace, broken hearted and robbed of the only hope he had ever known.  _

_ Ben settled down on the ground with him, gathering Armitage into his arms and speaking softly, reassuring him and doing his best to soothe him. "No, hey… it's okay. I should have known, I should have thought before I yelled. You have nothing to be sorry for. Come on Sunshine, you're okay. We're okay. We are going to be okay."  _

_ It took awhile for Armitage to calm down, and when he had he felt foolish. Ben had smoothed his fingers through his hair and hummed something tunelessly. It was probably a lullaby of some sort from his childhood, but Armitage saw no point in asking. He wouldn't know what it was anyway.  _

_ After that they were more careful with each other. Ben would leave before he lost his temper and Armitage gave him time to process his feelings. He could be patient if called upon, after all.  _

_ Ben had been gone a long time. He had gone down to the shore to scavenge for driftwood. He had checked his traps and nets. He'd given the stray cat that hung around their store shed the scraps after he had cleaned the fish, despite Armitage telling him that if he kept feeding the cat that it was going to be moved into the house with them.  _

_ Now Ben was standing in the garden behind the house, covered in mud up to his knees. The rain was picking up and he tilted his face back, eyes closed against it.  _

_ Armitage was warm and dry inside, watching him while his heart ached. He couldn't remember what they had even fought about, why he had been so cross in the first place. A heavy ache of loneliness washed over him and he stripped off his rough-hewn jumper, dropping it onto the kitchen table before going outside, not even stopping long enough to slip on his muck boots.  _

_ Ben must have sensed him because he turned his face towards him, something open and lost in his expression. Armitage ran the last few steps and collapsed against Ben's chest, instantly wrapped in his warm, strong arms. "Don't leave me, not ever," Armitage said against Ben's neck.  _

_ Ben pressed a kiss to his temple and Armitage shifted so he could capture his lips. He tasted like salt water and the only good thing Armitage had ever had. He held on to Ben tightly, shuttering.  _

I could never, _ Ben promised, putting the words directly in his mind.  _ We need each other. You are the only one I can trust. __

_ "You are so far away," Armitage could hear himself saying, even though it didn't make sense. Ben was right here in his arms. He was right here.  _

_ Except he wasn't. Armitage tried to tighten his grip on Ben but his arms seemed to be sliding through him. Ben was just a ghost. He couldn’t feel him anymore, couldn’t smell him. He stumbled back and it looked like Ben was speaking but there was no sound coming out of his mouth. Not even a whisper. _

_ In the blink of an eye he was gone. Armitage was alone.  _

_ Perhaps he always had been.  _

\--- 

The  _ Supremacy _ was a thing of beauty. Commanding a Star Destroyer had been a dream of Hux’s for as long as he could recall, and this Mega Destroyer was even more breathtaking.

He had not spent much time aboard this ship; very rarely did the Supreme Leader request his presence in person. 

Hux tried not to worry himself by fixating on why he had been summoned. 

Snoke wanted to discipline him, that much was true, but he was also granting Hux a chance to explain himself. He outlined the abilities of his newest innovation, the one that allowed the First Order to track rebel ships through hyperspace. They no longer had anywhere to hide. He took great pleasure in being able to outline his usefulness, to prove his intelligence and skill. 

After he had been dismissed he rose, his spine straightening a bit when he heard the turbolift door open and the heavy footfalls of Ren approaching. He turned his back on Snoke and moved towards the turbolift, unable to help the pleased smile on his face. “Hux’s new toy appears to be working,” Snoke drawled as Ren moved past Hux, his mask firmly in place. Every part of him was obscured, hiding any remaining injuries from sight. “The Resistance will soon be in our grasp.” 

The doors to the turbolift slid open and Hux stepped inside. “Thank you, Supreme Leader,” he said, his gaze heavy on the back of Ren’s head. As the door to the lift slid closed he could hear Snoke begin speaking to his apprentice, but as soon as it closed all sound was muffled. Hux didn’t hesitate to pull out his comm, typing out instructions for his second in command. 

There was a Rebellion to destroy. 

As Hux himself launched the shuttle that would take him back to the  _ Finalizer  _ his comm flared to life with frantic messages alerting the ship that Kylo Ren was going to lead the attack on the rebel fleet personally. 

Hux’s grip on the controls tightened, a familiar anger flaring to life. 

\---

Ren’s voice over the comms was boiling, his rage unmistakeable. Something had passed between him and the Supreme Leader, something that spurred him forward on a mission of destruction so thorough that no rebel could survive. 

“Target the main bridge,” Ren commanded, his ship pushing forward and his wingers following in formation close behind. 

Hux knew why the main bridge was the target that Ren called for. 

Leia Organa. 

Ren was the first to get a clear shot, even from this distance Hux could see that. He had the shot, and he didn’t take it. His hesitation was long enough that one of his wingmates took it, the blast large enough to send Ren’s ship tumbling. 

Hux cursed as the remaining rebel fleet retreated, and he barked an order for the starfighters to pull back. 

“No,” Ren replied while the rest of their fighters retreated. 

Hux took a deep breath, barely restraining himself from lowering his face into his palm in frustration. “Snoke’s command,” he said, his tone soft and restrained. One of them had to be. “They won’t last long, burning fuel like this. It’s just a matter of time.” 

Ren’s comm link was silent, but he pulled back. 

The only thing left to do now was to wait. This, of course, would be the most difficult part.

\---

Ren returned to the _ Finalizer _ , slotting right back in where he left off. He was a brooding, ever-present force, but it felt familiar. As soon as he docked his ship he went to medbay, presumably to have his still-healing wounds seen to. 

Hux retired to his chambers, intent on writing up his report of the skirmish while the details were still fresh in his mind. He prided himself on his thorough documentation of everything that occurred under his command, even if it never entered an official report. The more he documented, the safer he was in the long run. 

He was finishing up when the door to his chambers slid open. A distressed Ren thundered in, his face pale and scar livid. Hux stood as Ren held up a shaking hand. “Kneel,” Ren said, something wild and frightened in his gaze. 

Hux started to argue, then forgot why he was going to. Of course he would kneel, there was no question. He sank to his knees, eyes steady on Ren’s face. As quickly as the action had been completed Hux was flooded with indignation, rising to his feet in an undignified scramble. “Did you…?” He began hotly, but his anger fizzled when Ren met his gaze. “What? What is it?” 

Ren looked over his shoulder, seemingly to ensure he had not been followed. “Rey has found Luke. He’s training her.” 

“How do you know that?” Hux asked, dusting invisible grime off his knees. 

“I saw her,” he replied, a note of wonder in his voice. “Somehow, we… we saw each other. She tried to shoot me.” 

“A pity she missed,” Hux muttered. 

Ren’s look of exasperation was nearly comical. “I thought the difference between you and me was a filter that stopped you from voicing all of your thoughts,” he replied before sinking down on the end of Hux’s bed, his shoulders slumped and his head drooped low. 

“And I thought that the Jedi mind trick was reserved for Jedi,” Hux volleyed back. 

Ren glanced up. “What, are you afraid that I’ll force you to do whatever I want from now on? That I’ll turn you into a glorified puppet? I could have been doing that the entire time.” 

“So why didn’t you?” 

The corner of Ren’s mouth twitched upward. “Is that going to be the only way to get you to kneel for me again?” 

Hux’s felt the tips of his ears burn. “I liked you better when you were fawning over that girl,” he said. “Go haunt her dreams.” 

Ren’s attention snapped back to him. “You… you remember those?” 

Hux frowned, shaking his head in confusion. “What, dreams? Occasionally.” 

“Not just dreams,” Ren sighed, holding out a hand again to focus his energy on rifling through Hux’s mind. The feeling was familiar and like touching a live electric current. Images surfaced. Ren’s windswept face, a weather-beaten beach, freezing rain and warm kisses. “Those,” he said softly, letting his hand fall back to his side. 

Hux felt his heart thud in his chest so roughly that it took his breath away. “You blamed me for those, like I have any bloody control of you in this plane or the next,” he said in a rush, working the top button of his uniform loose before he thought better of it. Ren might read into that particular action wrongly.

“I’m not powerful enough to make those connections,” Ren said, like it was an admission of failure. “Rey said so, and I felt the truth of it. But the dreams feel different than what happened just now. I can’t explain it.” 

Hux sank down on his bed a few feet away from Ren. “Well if you can’t I surely can’t. Those dreams… we aren’t ourselves. Clearly. Everything’s different.” 

Ren hummed, neither a denial or a confirmation. He sat there, silent and still. There were multiple moments where it seemed that he was going to say something but he would stop himself, thinking better of the interjection. 

“You are a tangle, snarled beyond repair,” Hux finally said, shaking his head. Normally Ren would bristle at any sort of criticism, but he seemed too tired now to pay it much mind. “Those dreams are better than nightmares, in any case,” Hux said with a shrug that strove to be nonchalant. “I tend to not remember them. They are worryingly mundane, are they not?” 

“You don’t understand,” Ren sighed. “I don’t dream. Those aren’t dreams. They are visions, of a sort. They are trying to tell me something.” 

Hux’s brow furrowed. “But they are ridiculous. Pastoral views of a life neither of us chose. That is presuming that either of us had a choice in the first place.” 

“I chose you,” Ren said. There was no inflection in his tone, no clue as to how he felt about that observation. 

“That would have never happened, there is nothing about these dreams that could have ever occured,” Hux said in a dismissive rush. “If they are meant to be telling you something then kindly leave me out of it. It always seems that you have the luxury of figuring out you are dreaming before I do. I’ve been dragged into your head with no say in the matter whatsoever.” 

“Don’t you see? I know you find the Force repellent but it does not work at random. If you are there it’s for a reason,” Ren said, fire in his eyes. “I have visions of Rey where I have the opportunity to sway her heart to the Dark Side. And at night, I have this. It serves as a warning I suspect-- a warning to not become too complacent, too distracted.” 

“The only thing distracting you is that bloody girl,” Hux said before he could stop himself, his words a hot hiss.

“You know that isn’t true,” Ren muttered, and Hux’s gaze snapped to his face. There was a familiar look of hunger there, one that had only been witnessed in flashes previously. His eyes were heavy, and Hux could feel his gaze like a torch against his skin. 

Hux wanted to flee this moment, this conversation in general. Ren was treading on unsteady ground and was intent on dragging Hux out with him. “Leave it, Ren,” he said, moving to stand. Thoughts that he had never allowed himself to indulge in were drawn to the surface of his mind without his consent. He wanted to blame Ren, surely he was using the Force to influence him, but that familiar press was nowhere to be found. 

Ren’s hand wrapped around Hux’s wrist with surprising gentleness. He didn’t squeeze or tug, he simply held him there in place. Hux forced himself to meet Ren’s gaze, the darkness that normally filled them replaced with something that Hux had only seen in his dreams, the ones from which he awoke with a lingering sense of shame. 

“Take off my glove,” Hux commanded, searching Ren’s gaze for a hint of rebellion. Finding none he shifted his attention to the work of Ren’s free hand, which was carefully peeling away Hux’s glove to reveal the starkly pale hand underneath. 

Ren’s breathing seemed too loud. The force of it tickled Hux’s fingertips and before he could think better of it he moved so that his bare hand was cupping Ren’s unmarked cheek. Ren’s eyes slipped closed, his dark lashes splayed across his cheekbones like shadows. His mouth fell open at the touch, but soon enough it closed again. His hand was still wrapped around Hux’s wrist and this time it tightened slightly, as if he were afraid that Hux would rethink his actions and move away. 

“Please,” Ren breathed as his eyes fluttered open. He was flesh flayed bare, a bundle of quivering nerves both begging to be touched and afraid of the pain the lightest stroke could cause. He turned his face slightly to brush his lips against Hux’s thumb, not a kiss but an acknowledgement. A repetition of his question, a temptation that was impossible to resist. 

“For what are you asking?” Hux asked, slowly sliding his thumb over the swell of Ren’s lower lip. He had not felt this powerful since Starkiller, and he knew that he only wielded this power because Ren had given it to him freely. 

The corner of Ren’s mouth twitched upward and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing and clicking audibly. “You,” Ren said, his voice impossibly low. He tilted his face upward in supplication as Hux moved in closer, slotting himself between the spread of Ren's thighs. “Please,” Ren asked again, his hands sliding under Hux’s greatcoat and settling on the jut of his hips. 

Hux wanted. He desperately wanted. He could think of countless ways this could destroy him but his body burned with the fire of life. He had a powerful and beautiful man in his bed and at his mercy. A man who wanted him, who dreamt of a dreadfully boring life together on a perpetually damp planet to which Hux was not eager to return. 

“I like the way you say that,” Hux said softly as Ren caught the tip of his thumb between his teeth, his tongue pressing against the pad. Hux’s breathing hitched and Ren smirked, releasing his grip of Hux’s thumb. 

They were both breathing hard, both still like prey animals. He felt a pressure behind his eyes and his gaze snapped up to meet Ren’s. “If you have a question, use your words and not the Force to find your answer. Ask, don’t take.” 

Ren didn’t hesitate. His large hands moved to the fastening of Hux’s trousers, the leather of his gloves creaking as his fingers curled. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked up at Hux again.  _ May I?  _ Echoed through Hux’s mind, Ren’s fingers stilling. 

“Use your mouth, Ren, use your words,” Hux snapped as he threaded his fingers through Ren’s loose hair, tugging his head back to better look him in the eyes. 

Ren let out an annoyed huff. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” he said as he tugged open Hux’s trousers, his large hand slipping in to occupy the space he had made. His fingers pressed and curled as his gaze bored into Hux’s. He wasn’t trying to read his mind, he was simply watching every twitch of muscle on his face. “Can I use my mouth on you, General?” 

It had been a long time since someone had spoken to Hux in such a way, touched him in a way that was meant to bring him pleasure. His head spun and he loosened his grip on Ren’s hair, letting the fine strands slide through his fingers. “You may,” Hux said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. Ren leaned forward to rest his forehead against Hux’s middle as he set to work, drawing Hux’s cock free. His hand was large and hot, and Hux found himself hardening quickly to the touch, as utilitarian as it was. He half-expected Ren to comment, to tease, but he didn’t. He stroked him once, twice, slow and indulgent. 

Hux let out a shuddering breath, reaching out to put a steadying hand on Ren’s shoulder. Ren smirked and leaned forward a bit, bringing his face in closer to Hux’s, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he appeared to consider something. 

Hux started to inquire but felt his comm buzz in his pocket insistently. He huffed out a frustrated sigh and moved to get it as Ren’s hand stilled. “Don’t answer that,” Ren grumbled, holding Hux fast. “Don’t.” 

“A General is not afforded such a luxury,” Hux replied, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears. As his fingers wrapped around his comm Ren let him go, shoving him backwards hard enough that Hux stumbled a bit. “If you’re going to throw a tantrum get out before you destroy my chambers again,” Hux snapped. 

Ren didn’t need to be told twice. He stormed out as violently as he had come as Hux opened his comm messages. With his shaking left hand, Hux righted himself. The burning arousal he had felt only moments before had swiftly been replaced with a cold shot of shame. He had let the wildest part of himself win out briefly, allowed Ren to lure it out of him with only the slightest provocation. The heat in Ren’s gaze had been just as effective as a caress, a whisper brushed against his ear. 

It was shameful that he had fallen for it. That he had wanted it for a long time. That despite Ren’s petulance, that desire had not been sated. Hux went to the fresher and splashed his face with water and neatened his hair. The line of his trousers was no worse for the wear. 

He answered the summons. 

\--- 

The  _ Supremacy  _ was his. He wasn’t sure how much Ren had to do with that particular promotion, but judging by the radio silence he had been receiving from the other it seemed unlikely he had put in a good word. Peavey had seemed rather shocked when Hux asked him to accompany him to assist with the command shift, but Hux knew that he needed an ally, no matter how tenuous. Peavey had been under his command since Hux had been promoted to general and had rarely questioned him openly. That particular honour belonged to Ren, of course, but even that had died down significantly. 

Something had shifted rather violently, something he did not have time to consider with any depth. They had a Resistance fleet cornered in frantic retreat, the ships running out of fuel fast. They destroyed the  _ Anodyne _ easily, but the other ships had been clever enough to retreat out of the range of the First Order guns. 

He could practically feel Yago’s distaste filling the bridge. The former commander of the  _ Supremacy _ was far too disciplined to allow himself to let it fester into rage. Imperial command had beaten that out of their ranks. They were forced to be moulded into a permanent state of indifference, something that Hux had not the time nor patience for. When he saw these old men he saw his father. Men who were obsolete and in dire need of destruction. 

There would be time enough for that later, after the death throes of the Rebellion had come to their logical end. 

The  _ Supremacy _ , although grand, did not feel like his, not like the  _ Finalizer  _ had. This ship did not belong to him, even though it was under his command. If he thought about it too much, he could very easily convince himself it would never really be under his command. He was here at Snoke’s request, a General to fulfill Snoke’s orders without question or hesitation. That trust was a point of pride, one that he held close to his chest. 

Yago had reluctantly surrendered his chambers but Hux rejected them. He was not interested in adding insult to injury. He instead took much more humble lodgings, knowing full well that very little of his time would be spent within those walls. 

He didn’t presume to consider that Ren may want him closer, may request they share chambers, perhaps. He hadn’t even seen Ren since he’d transferred. He might have very well been still holed up on the  _ Finalizer _ , pouting and dwelling on his connection to the girl. 

Nevertheless, it did not take much exploration to discover the quarters on the ship that Ren had claimed as his own. The door glided open for Hux without provocation, and the bright light and walls hurt Hux’s sensitive eyes. 

Ren was standing in the middle of his chambers, a pillar of black with his hand raised, fingers curling into a fist. “I could touch her,” Ren said, his voice low and hypnotic. 

“What are you talking about?” Hux asked, his eyes drifting down to Ren’s glove, which was sprinkled with water that was leaving a white film behind as it dried. Hux caught a whiff of sea water. Ren’s hair was damp and windswept, and suddenly he understood. The scavenger had been here mere moments before Hux. Perhaps she had gone when she sensed his approach. “Do you wish to touch her?” Hux asked, unable to keep a curl of bitterness from his tone. 

Ren huffed as he shook the stray droplets from his hand. “You’re jealous. After everything I have done for you.” 

“I’m not jealous of your current obsession,” Hux replied, sounding much more certain than he felt. “Though I do wonder why you can’t seem to manage this sort of connection with someone who shares your blood. Now it seems we must destroy two Jedi instead of one. How tedious.” 

“She is no Jedi, she will never be,” Ren said as he shook his head. “I will have her at my side. She will be instrumental in my rule.” He looked up at Hux, his furrowed brow smoothing as he seemed to return to himself. “As will you. The people who do not trust the Force will need someone on whom they can rely. That someone is you, General. The old Imperial fossils are finished. The Supreme Leader sees no use for them. Neither do I.” 

“Is that why I’m here?” Hux asked, unable to restrain the question any longer. “The Supreme Leader wanted me here in command of his ship?” 

Ren tilted his head to the side, studying him for a moment. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and he reached up with the hand that was salt-crusted, his thumb tracing the arch of his cheekbone. “You are here because I want you here. The Supreme Leader brought you to me for a reason. I see that now. At first I thought it was a test of my resolve. A distraction. I know now that your allegiance makes me stronger. You make me stronger. Have I adequately proven that to you, General?” 

Hux was shocked to silence. Ren’s touch against his cheek was gentle. He traced the severe line of his sideburn, along the neat hairline. Hux drew in a slow breath and allowed himself to revel in the attention for a moment. It was indulgent, a sensation he could not recall ever feeling before. Something that only Ren had ever given him, and something he never expected to have again. There were worse things, he supposed. “You still have much to prove to me,” Hux said, and Ren’s hand stilled. 

“Will you allow me the opportunity to do so?” Ren asked softly. Hux drifted in closer, and he was unsure if the movement was under his own power or Ren’s. He didn’t care. Hux had only thought his assent and Ren was leaning in, brushing his lips against Hux’s, teasing each caress, every breath from him. 

Ren’s obvious lack of experience was made up for with his intensity, his hands drifted from Hux’s face to his hips then up his sides, drawing their bodies flush. His hands never seemed to still, intent on mapping every inch of his back, every bump of spine and curve of rib. Ren’s brow was furrowed in concentration when Hux dared to flick his tongue against Ren’s upper lip, more of a curious inquiry than a tease. Ren didn’t seem the type to take teasing lightly. 

Even still, Ren smiled, his brow smoothing and the corners of his eyes crinkling. It was an expression he had never seen on Ren’s face before, something startling in its brightness. He looked more like a lovesick boy than a Sith Lord in the making. “I’ve never seen you smile before,” Ren observed softly, his own gaze studying Hux’s face with pleasure. “You’ve got dimples.” 

“Now that you’ve brought it up I shall never grant you the honour of seeing them again,” Hux replied, but Ren clearly wasn’t listening. He pressed a kiss to one dimple then the next before returning to Hux’s lips, mirroring the little flick of his tongue that Hux himself had delivered. 

Hux was burning up, his ears and cheeks undoubtedly an unflattering shade of purple. The thought of shedding his greatcoat had barely crossed his mind before Ren was doing it for him. The pressure behind his eyes was a sort of comfort now, reassurance that Ren knew exactly what he wanted. What he needed. 

Hux reached up to unfasten Ren’s tunic, pushing it off of his broad shoulders. His skin was pale, the scar that bisected his cheek trailing down his neck and over his shoulder. Surely Ren had suffered more injuries, but none of the other injuries had left scars that were notable enough to keep. This one was left by the girl. Of course. “Why do you always want this after you’ve spoken to her?” Hux asked, tracing a fingertip along the line of the scar on his chest. 

“Why are you asking a question you don’t want an answer to?” Ren vollied back, still under Hux’s fingertips. “You must realize that I don’t… have anyone. No one I can trust with this vulnerability. No one who understands what it is like inside of my mind. The power that I have, and the control that I must exhibit. What I have is you, whatever tenuous truce that we have, whatever understanding, and… her. She found the light in me that I couldn’t find, that I thought was lost. Banished.” Ren moved to unfasten Hux’s belt, letting it fall away with a clatter. “Fostering intimacy is critical. She doesn’t have anyone either, no one who understands her. Why else do you think my mother is so fond? Rey is the child she will not fail.” 

“You’re lonely,” Hux scoffed, letting his hand fall away. “Of course. Yes, well done you for deciding I was an interesting enough plaything. Now that you’ve discovered you can get your hands on her then what’s the point in this? Convenience?” 

“You’re getting angry over nothing,” Ren said, shaking his head. “I’ve explained this to you already. You’re the one who came to my room, I’ve no interest in fighting with you. I think it’s fairly clear where my interest lies. What about yours?” 

“You’ve been manipulating me in my sleep!” Hux snapped, which garnered an eye roll from Ren. He settled back into his bed and kicked off his boots a little more violently than completely necessary. 

“We’ve had this conversation before, it’s growing tiresome,” Ren said, his voice heavy with fatigue. “Either fuck me or get out. Trying to…” Ren halted, shaking his head a bit. “I have all these different versions of you fighting in my head. The Grand Marshall I saw in my vision, shortly after we met. This regal leader for whom I would pledge my allegiance. Whom I would die for, my loyalty so sure. I felt that in my bones, that I would do anything that man asked of me, kneel at his feet and be pleased to do so. Then I met you, really met you, and knew that would never come to pass. There was no way you could ever put aside your pride long enough to inspire that sort of fervor, of mindless devotion, something that even Snoke doesn’t have from me.” Ren rested his forearms on his knees, his face still screwed up in anger. “Then there’s the you who appears in those dreams. This helpless waif of a thing who is devoted to me in much the same way. I saved you from the dish pits of Arkanis and secreted you away from everything. I gave up being a Jedi for you, and you feel like you owe me this utter devotion. You live in fear that I will leave you, leave you with nothing. I think part of you likes feeling so powerless, not having to make a single decision because you don’t have the strength of mind to do so.” 

“Ren…” Hux interjected but the look that Ren levelled at him was fierce. 

“Then there’s you. Here. Armitage Hux,” Ren said, putting on an exaggerated Imperial accent as he recited the name. “A man who is loyal to no one and who can boast no one’s loyalty to him. All flash but no substance, but wanting so desperately to be respected that you’ll stoop to this. That’s how you view it, right? Stooping to be my whore, my plaything, in the off chance that the Supreme Leader will reward you for your long-suffering patience? That when I inevitably make an impulsive decision that gets me killed, your carefully calculated game of chess will have paid off. You will be next in line. Lauded as the face of a new era. You.” Ren shifted again so that he was sitting up on his knees on the bed, his eyes narrowed and dark. He had to look up into Hux’s face to deliver the final blow, but the tilt of his face made him no less powerful. “But you’ve miscalculated something, and you’re slowly coming to realize that. You thought I was playing a game with you, just like you were playing a game with me. I wasn’t. I think you knew that, you were just afraid to admit that a monster like me could love a monster like you. Funny how that works, isn’t it? How you can loathe and love someone in equal measure?” 

“Leaning more toward loathing, after having to listen to all that,” Hux replied as he stooped to pick up his greatcoat and belt. Clearly they were getting nowhere, Ren was in a place in his mind that couldn’t be touched by anything. He had swung the weapon of his words wildly and frequently, hoping that at least one of his blows would land on something vital. “I have far better things to do with my time than listen to your attempts at waxing poetic about the delusions you carry in your head. I have never been your whore, or your Grand Marshall, or your sycophant. I will not start now.” 

“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question. Ren’s gaze was steady, his shoulders slumped.

Hux bristled. “Well spotted. You said I had two choices. Leaving is what I choose.” 

“And if I ask you to stay, what then?” Hux stilled. The curl of vulnerability in Ren’s tone was new. It was also, most likely, an affectation. A manipulation. 

“Are you going to force me to?” Hux asked wearily, levelling Ren with a glare. “Threaten me? Hurt me if I refuse? Run and tell the Supreme Leader I’m guilty of insubordination?” 

Ren rolled his eyes. “Playing the martyr doesn’t suit you. What you do makes no difference to me. Stay or go. I won’t beg.” 

Hux was still, eyes narrowed as he took in the forced nonchalance of Ren, his hands folded behind his head. He was pointedly not looking at Hux. Still, Hux could see the line of his arousal in his pants, the subtle flush of his cheeks. Ren was begging with his body, not words. The longer Hux stood there observing him, the more smug Ren’s expression became. His hips shifted minutely, drawing attention. 

Hux cursed under his breath and laid his coat aside. “I don’t have time for your childish mind games, Ren,” Hux sighed, scrubbing his face with his hand. “If all you’re going to do is lay there and look smug then there’s no use for me here.” 

“The choice is yours. I’ve extended an offer,” Ren said, his hand settling on his chest. “I want you here. I don’t know how I could make that more plain.” He drew in a slow breath, lifting one of his shoulders in a shrug. “As for my childishness, if my immaturity was so off-putting you wouldn’t have let me touch your cock. Or perhaps that is what you enjoy best? Do you…?” 

“If I stay with you will you stop that infernal talking?” 

Ren didn’t respond. He didn’t even appear to want to. His smug expression remained intact, however, which intensified Hux’s already intense desire to punch him. “That isn’t normally what you fantasize about doing to me when you are imagining violence,” Ren drawled. 

“I’d really rather you stayed out of my mind,” Hux said as he sat down on the bed, leaning over to untie his boots. He was distracted briefly by a scuff on his toe, which he unsuccessfully tried to wipe away. He made a mental note to instruct a cleaning droid to polish his boots when he was finished with Ren. 

After he removed his boots he shifted back on the bed, catching Ren’s eye. He was levelling him with an unimpressed look, and a pointed glance towards the boots told him all he needed to know. A flare of anger overtook him and Ren lifted his chin a bit. A challenge. “If you don’t want me in your mind you’ll have to learn to not throw the doors open for me at every opportunity you have to do so,” he said. 

“I don’t do that,” Hux snarled, wrapping his hand around Ren’s neck before he consciously made the decision to do so. He squeezed, waiting for fear to surface in Ren’s expression. It never did. Ren’s expression was heated but artfully blank. 

Hux loosened his grip and Ren gasped, his bare chest rising as his adam’s apple bobbed under Hux’s hand. His eyelids drifted down until they were half closed, and one of Ren’s hands settled on Hux’s hip. 

Holding him. Not pushing or pulling, simply holding. They moved simultaneously, lips crashing together. The hand that Hux had settled on Ren’s throat had slid upwards, tangling in his impossibly soft hair. Ren’s hands slid over the swell of his ass before pulling his hips in closer, grinding them together. 

Shortly after that, with Ren panting into his mouth and lack of oxygen making him lightheaded, Hux lost the plot entirely. Ren’s body was hot between his thighs, the head only intensifying when Ren took them both in hand, providing more of the delicious friction they both craved. Patience was not a virtue either of them valued very highly, so this frantic fumbling would have to do for now. They were both too worked up now to put time into preparing for a proper fuck. 

Ren came first, which didn’t surprise Hux. He still held a rather strong suspicion that Ren was a virgin in all the ways it really mattered, unused to allowing himself this sort of indulgence. 

Ren’s hand slowed and Hux batted it away in order to finish himself off, his way eased a bit by Ren’s ejaculate. It only took a dozen or so more strokes before he was coming over Ren’s stomach, his thighs trembling as they clamped down around Ren’s hips. 

He took a slow, deep breath, his body still trembling as he rolled off of Ren’s body, flopping down beside him bonelessly. 

Ren’s quarters were quiet save for the pulse of the ship’s engines and life support systems and the cadence of their breathing. When Hux’s head had ceased its spinning he looked over to Ren, who was trailing his fingertips through the semen that painted his abdomen. Hux couldn’t help his little snort of disgust as he watched him. Ren seemed to be in some sort of trance. “You’re filthy, you should get cleaned up before it dries,” Hux said. He watched his words sink into Ren’s mind, watched his brain come back online. 

Ren nodded, wiping his hand on the sheets and sitting up. His eyes slid over Hux, perhaps looking for evidence that Hux needed the fresher as well, but apparently found none. He climbed out of bed and went to the fresher, rolling his shoulders before disappearing. 

Hux climbed out of bed and dressed quickly, doing his best to smooth down his hair before he pulled on his coat. He could still hear the fresher as he left Ren’s chambers, entering a thankfully empty corridor. When he returned to his own chambers he stripped down, tossing his boots toward the cleaning droid before entering the fresher. Once he felt clean again he came out, dressing in his sleeping clothes and climbing into his uncomfortable bed before checking his comm. 

Ren had sent three messages. 

_ You left.  _

_ Why?  _

_ Come back.  _

Hux tapped his fingertips against the edge of the screen, staring at the messages until the screen went dark. 

He slept fitfully. 

\--- 

_ My quarters.  _

_ Please.  _

Hux’s comm vibrated against his thigh once. Twice. 

The more it buzzed the more it annoyed Hux. Ren was well aware he was on shift, and he would be the only one dumb enough to bother Hux when he was. The moment he could step away he whipped out this comm, typing out an angry message before he could look at the series of messages that Ren had sent. 

_ If you are bothering me simply because you’re lonely I swear I will never come to your quarters again. Do you understand me?  _

Only after he had sent that message he scrolled upward to look at the incoming messages from Ren. His eyes settled on the word  _ Please _ . 

It was out of character. He said he would never beg, and yet here he was. 

Hux’s anger wilted a bit and he typed out another message: 

_ What is it?  _

A response wasn’t forthcoming. Hux pulled open the tracker and sighed when he saw that Ren was still in his chambers. Meditating now, hopefully. Finding some semblance of peace. 

He tucked away his comm, which stayed silent for the remainder of his shift. 

He wasn’t sure if Ren had even read his responses, but if he had the odds were high that he was upset with Hux, which was very familiar territory. 

Hux left the shift debrief, his hands deep in his coat pockets as he answered Ren’s summons, however delayed. 

Hux had left Ren’s chambers mere hours earlier, the entire room humid from prolonged use of hot water. Ren’s entire washroom had been flooded but Ren had not been keen on taking his dick out of Hux’s arse long enough to turn off the faucet to his frankly obscene bathtub. 

Why Ren had insisted on bathing together in the limited window of time allotted by Hux’s meal break Hux would never know. He also didn’t have the patience to indulge him that particular eccentricity. When he heard the tub filling he rolled his eyes and undressed in Ren’s chambers, hanging his uniform in an effort to reduce the need for a replacement for the second half of his shift. 

Ren himself was wearing just his breeches, leaning against the countertop that was meant to hold toiletries but was completely bare. As he took in Hux’s bare form, an almost predatory grin spread on his face. Hux could feel his gaze like a caress, and his skin dimpled with gooseflesh. 

“I don’t have time for-- whatever this is,” Hux said with a wave towards the half-filled tub. The water swirled with bubbles and was tinged blue, the scent of some exotic flora filling the air. 

“Then why did you undress?” Ren asked, his chest expanding as Hux drew closer to him, hands slipping around Ren’s sturdy waist. 

Hux drug his fingernails against the small of Ren’s back, earning a hiss of discomfort. “Because if we use the time wisely, there are better ways to entertain ourselves.” 

Ren clearly wanted to argue. He glanced toward the tub, and there was a dangerous, playful flash in his gaze as it snapped back to Hux. 

“Don’t you dare,” Hux snarled, using his best attempt at intimidation that one can muster when one is naked and moderately aroused. 

Ren’s expression was a mockery of innocence. He started to lift his hand, his fingers curling, but Hux slapped it away. Ren’s brow furrowed before he hoisted Hux into his arms, intent for the tub. 

Hux was not overly skilled in physical combat, nor was he the biggest fan of cheap shots. He was smart enough to know when he was bested by an opponent and when desperate measures were called for. 

If he was going to be dumped in the water, he was not going alone. He clung to Ren tightly, legs locked around his waist and fingernails sank into the flesh between his shoulder blades. 

The water was warm. His body was nearly submerged and Ren was trying to release him. 

He was also failing to do so. Hux braced a foot against the side of the tub and rolled, dragging Ren under the water. HIs body was half on top of Ren’s and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile on his face as Ren fought back to the surface, tossing his wet hair back from his face with a gasp. 

Hux took that opportunity to straddle Ren’s hips, grinding down against the swell of his cock. 

The sound that Ren made was strangled, and he reached down to sink his fingers into the plush flesh of Hux’s ass.

“Have we fulfilled your courtship requirements?” Hux asked against Ren’s lips, smiling at the growl of frustration that followed. 

“Shut up,” Ren said, climbing to his feet and hauling Hux up with him. Hux found himself unceremoniously dumped on the countertop, leaning back on his hands as Ren fumbled for lubrication. He seemed close to giving up when he held out his hand, the glass bottle thudding against his palm. He looked almost relieved as he coated his fingertips, sliding his slick thumb against Hux’s entrance and pressing against the tightly furled muscle. 

A twist of anxiety hit Hux but he forced it away, focusing instead on the pleasure he knew would soon follow. Ren must have sensed his hesitation-- the press of his thumb eased into a slow stroke. He was coaxing relaxation, drawing out pleasure rather than forcing it. He only pressed forward when he met no resistance, and the intrusion of his finger felt like a relief rather than an invasion. 

Things proceeded quickly after that. Hux could hear himself speaking, could hear Ren speaking, but his mind was too preoccupied to follow. All he could focus on was the hot, perfect press of Ren’s big dick inside of him, driving them both towards release. 

When Ren could no longer keep from slipping on the waterlogged floor he hoisted Hux back into his arms, carrying him back towards the bed and settling them both there, barely missing a measured thrust. 

Ren was everywhere, his wet hair brushing Hux’s lips as he felt Ren’s teeth sink into his neck. Hux was not so lost that he didn’t wrap his fingers in Ren’s hair and tug his head back. “Don’t leave marks,” he gasped, not even willing to open his eyes long enough to attempt a glare. 

“Bossy…” Ren growled, punctuating the word with a snap of his hips that drove Hux upward hard enough he lifted a hand to brace against the headboard. 

“You like it,” Hux replied, too close to the edge to push too hard. He needed Ren there between his thighs, needed his singular focus before something else came along to pull him elsewhere. 

Hux climaxed with an undignified whimper, clinging to Ren’s damp body. The rush of blood in his ears joined the sound of the overflowing tub, but he didn’t mind. Let the water run. Ren was the one who would have to deal with that mess. 

Ren was coming before the last pulses of Hux’s own orgasm had ceased, and he gathered Hux in close as he filled him. 

Hux struggled to catch his breath with Ren’s arms so tightly locked around him. At some point in the comedown the running water had ceased and Ren had taken to smoothing his hands over Hux’s thighs and sides. 

“I need to return to my station,” Hux hummed, moving to rise and hiding his wince of discomfort. He wiped himself clean with a corner of the damp, rumpled sheets before dressing. He could smell flowers and Ren on his skin but did not have time to remedy that situation. It would have to wait until his shift had concluded. 

Ren watched silently as Hux dressed, his spent, half-hard cock still pulled free of his wet breeches. He seemed to be in no rush to right himself, content instead to watch Hux’s reverse strip tease. He had left Ren there, half-dressed and pensive, and returned to his post. 

Hux frowned when Ren’s door didn’t slide open before he entered his command override. If Ren was so impatient that he sent multiple messages requesting his presence, the least he could do is open the bloody door. 

He typed in the override with a huff, but when the door slid open something made him hesitate. His steps into Ren’s chambers were quiet, which he assumed explained why Ren wasn’t rushing to meet him, commanding him to undress. 

When he saw the scavenger sitting beside Ren on his bed, their hands pressed together with twin looks of wonder on their faces, a cold stone of fury settled in his gut. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ren was thrown away from Rey as she blinked out of view. 

Ren lay there panting, his hand held in front of his face. He was unaware of Hux’s presence, which was a testament to how very far away he was. He was always drawn to Hux, and he never seemed to be aware of that preoccupation. Like a rogue moon he had been pulled into Hux’s orbit, gravity being too much to resist. They were drawn to one another but here, mere feet from one another, Hux had never felt so alone. 

“Get out,” Hux snapped, those two words vibrating with rage. 

Ren sat up, brow furrowed in confusion. His gaze raked over Hux’s tense form but his expression didn’t change. “These are my quarters,” he replied, the hand that had been pressed to hers curling into a fist against his thigh. 

“I said GET OUT,” Hux bellowed, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears. 

Ren’s confusion melted away to annoyance and he stood, taking a step towards Hux hesitantly. Hux felt an all-too familiar pressure behind his eyes and he surged forward, grabbing Ren’s upper arm and dragging him towards the door with all his strength. He shoved him towards the corridor. “If you want her that much go find her. I have no use for you here.”    
  
Ren’s face was unreadable, his breathing elevated. “You don’t…” 

“Don’t you dare tell me I don’t understand, I understand perfectly,” Hux snapped, his skin so flushed it was tingling. “I don’t answer your summons so you force the girl to. Except you didn’t have to force her, did you? She practically fell into your arms. Now get the fuck out.” 

Ren clenched his jaw. His gaze was intense, searching, but Hux gave him nothing. Ren rolled his eyes and made to leave, but something inside of Hux snapped. He raised his hand and slapped Ren as hard as he could, the impact such that his palm went numb. 

Hux never thought he would get to see Ren shatter, watch him break apart in pieces so fractured that he was left in bloody shards. He watched it happen in slow motion, the sting of betrayal so sharp that Hux himself felt it. Ren’s eyes shined with tears that Hux didn’t expect to break free, but they did. He cried. “As you wish, General,” Ren said, words barely audible, before he turned to leave. 

Hux slammed his hand against the keypad and the door closed. He took a handful of deep, steadying breaths before he swept everything off of Ren’s long work table. He then moved to his closet, tearing it all down to the ground. He was lost in his anger, destroying everything in his path like Ren himself did over and over again. 

Let Ren clean it up this time.He had no interest in covering for his mistakes, not anymore. 

When he was finished he stood in the middle of Ren’s quarters, his shaking hands wiping away tears he didn’t realize had been falling. As adrenaline drained from his body he was left cold and empty. He could no longer look at Ren’s chambers, his bare mattress, anything. As he turned to go he saw Ren’s saber, half-sticking out from under the bed. There was a flare of panic when he realized he couldn’t track Ren if he didn’t have his saber. 

He left, trying to force himself to not care. 

He failed. 

\--- 

The girl wasn't with the ragtag group of idiots who dared try to sneak aboard. Something about this knowledge was enough to guarantee that Hux showed no mercy. He wanted to torture each and every one of them until they spilled her whereabouts, but his instincts told him that they might not have the answer to that question. He had the impression that the scavenger was as unpredictable and self-destructive as Ren. 

Backhanding the deserter would have to suffice. Instructing his fleet to fire at will was a competitive alternative. 

However, as he stood in front of the defeated rebel scum ordering their execution, he knew. He knew that she was with Ren. Ren had done as Hux had commanded, he had found her. 

He waited until he had left the rebels in Phasma's capable hands to pull out his comm, his hand throbbing from the feral bite of the girl from the Otomok system. Ren’s tracker placed him in Snoke’s receiving chamber, but he had much greater things to worry about than Ren presenting his catch to the Supreme Leader. He was like a cat with a dead rodent, eager to present the spoils of his hunt to his master. 

Hux had a Resistance to destroy. He didn’t have time for petty games.

His officers were surprisingly cooperative. They each one did as he commanded without hesitation, which was a refreshing change of pace. Perhaps they were finally coming to terms with the overwhelming fact that Hux was an adept leader and had been the entire time they had been under his command.

This blooming satisfaction was short-lived. The  _ Raddus  _ was driven into the hull of the  _ Supremacy _ , ripping the Mega Destroyer open like a seam. 

Cold, sinking dread filled Hux. His hands went numb as he fled to Snoke’s throne room, hoping that the turbolifts were still functional. It would be just his luck that he died in disgrace trapped in a turbolift in a ship that he had grown to loathe. 

Thankfully the turbolift operated without fault, and he had the briefest of moments to compose himself. 

He didn't know what he was walking into. When the doors slid open he was hit with the smell of ozone and charred flesh. Slumped in his throne was the lower half of the Supreme Leader, his upper half in a heap at his feet. His Praetorian guards lay decimated, still smouldering. The only sign of life was Ren, unconscious but still breathing steadily, his chest rising and falling where he lay sprawled near Snoke’s corpse. 

The First Order needed a new leader. They could not press forward and finish destroying the Resistance if word got out that Snoke was dead. The in-fighting would be too much to overcome and they had to remain focused. 

Ren was not that leader. As much as he fancied himself capable, he was not. He never would be. Hux’s hand drifted to his pistol as the reality of what he must do began to materialize in his mind. 

When Ren’s eyelashes fluttered Hux shifted his hand to his thigh, scratching there as if addressing an itch. Ren’s gaze met his, slowly coming into focus. “What happened?” Hux asked, surprised by the concern evident in his tone. 

“The girl murdered Snoke,” Ren replied. The ship lurched, and confusion painted Ren’s expression. As Hux moved to check the readout on a sealed door, Ren echoed Hux’s question. “What happened?” 

“Snoke’s escape shuttle is gone,” Hux snapped, turning to glare at Ren. He’d let the girl escape. He’d let her murder the Supreme Leader and let her escape in one fell swoop. 

Ren was on his feet. “We know where she’s going,” he snapped. “Get our forces down to that Resistance base. Let’s finish this.” 

The look that Hux levelled at him was venomous. Of course Ren would presume to take over command. Dash Hux’s years of experience, his creativity, his drive and his accomplishments. “Finish this?” Hux scoffed, unable to bite his tongue. “You presume to command  _ my _ army? We have no ruler. The Supreme Leader is dead.” 

Something shifted in the throne room, an atmospheric flux. Hux felt his trachea collapse under great force, and when Ren turned around, he understood. Ren’s hand was outstretched, fingers curling as he used the Force to drive Hux to his knees. Hux’s vision blurred, but the intensity of Ren’s gaze catapulted him back in time. Back to when Ren had first done this to him, when they were new to one another. 

Ren no longer cared if Hux believed him to be a coward. He saw this violence as a show of force, not of cowardice. “The Supreme Leader is dead,” Ren growled, his damp hair hanging in his face as he trembled with power. With righteous anger. 

Hux’s world was grey. “Long live the Supreme Leader,” he rasped, and suddenly his breathing was no longer restricted. He drew in a ragged gasp, his throat raw and painful. He collapsed backwards, eyes wide as he looked up into Ren’s unrecognizable face. His expression was contemptuous, like Hux was nothing more than something foul on the bottom of his boot. 

Ren left, likely intent of delivering his first set of orders as the new leader of the First Order. 

Hux’s ragged breathing echoed through the throne room. He climbed to his feet as gracefully as possible, dusting off his greatcoat with shaking hands. He pushed down his fear, his overwhelming urge to cry or flee, but he would not allow Ren to think for one second he was going to roll over and show submission. 

He would have to earn that respect all over again as a leader rather than an equal. 

His comm buzzed with a message from Peavey stating that Ren requested his presence on the command shuttle that was departing for Crait, the planet where the Rebellion would meet their end. 

Hux went, surprised by the peace and calm that had overtaken him. 

There was time for fury later. 

\--- 

The rebels were desperate, trying with all of their might to destroy the large siege cannon that was powering up to blast the mine into oblivion. Ren was a raw nerve, screaming the command to blast the  _ Millenium Falcon  _ out of the sky and doling out his other orders with just as much fervor. 

His orders meant nothing until Hux issued them, however often Ren levelled a glare of distaste in his direction. The meagre Resistance fleet was no match for the cannon and the blast was powerful enough to crack the barricaded entrance right down the center. He had done it. All that was left was to pick off each measly little life. Restore peace and order to the galaxy. He was more than up for the task. 

He felt a gentle, fleeting pressure and cut a glance towards Ren, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. A wave of pleasure not his own crested in his mind. “General Hux, advance,” Ren said. “No quarter. No prisoners.” 

His line had hardly begun the advance when a lone man dressed in black came from inside the mine. Hux’s brow furrowed as he watched the paltry advance, a desperate last measure from a defeated faction. He turned towards Ren and opened his mouth, but his words died on his lips. 

Ren looked as if he was seeing a ghost. “Stop,” he ordered, and Hux didn’t hesitate to relay the single word. 

He watched the man’s face raised, his greying hair sweeping across his forehead, and he knew with unwavering certainty that he was looking right at Ren. 

Ren was terrified. Pale with it, desperate as he demanded that every single gun in their arsenal open fire. He was showing his hand, broadcasting his fear for all the world to see. 

He had not learned that fear was deadly, not like Hux had. Not like Brendol had taught him over and over again since birth. 

The white-crusted ground in front of them was lit up with artillery fire, a swirling cloud of red and white obscuring the lone Jedi from view. Ren was watching, tense, his hands curled into tight fists as he drew nearer to the wide observation window. 

Hux watched him as his own resolve grew. Ren was not fit to lead and never would be. The more rash he behaved in front of the commanding officers of the First Order, the easier his usurpation would ultimately be. Hux approached, drawing equal to Ren. Ren’s eyes were filled with tears as he looked down at the barrage directed at the man below. At his uncle and former Master. That was the only person it could possibly be to warrant such an extreme reaction from Ren. 

He was a ghost from Ren’s path that refused to stay dead. That rose to meet Force with Force. 

“More!” Ren commanded. 

“We’ve surely--” Hux began uneasily, but he was cut off. 

“MORE!” Ren bellowed. 

Hux did not relay this order, yet the firing continued for a while still until Hux commanded, “Enough.  _ Enough _ !”

The commanders were hesitant, but they followed command. Ren collapsed into his chair, breathing heavily. 

“Do you think you got him?” Hux snapped, brows furrowed with scorn as he looked down at Ren, the great child. He was still staring at the swirling dust up when Hux added, “Now, if we’re ready to get moving, we can finish this.” 

From behind him the shuttle’s commander said something, hesitation clear in his tone. Ren looked up before Hux himself had even responded. Out of the fiery column below stepped Luke Skywalker, completely unharmed and unfazed. He brushed invisible dust from his shoulder, eyes still locked on the shuttle.

Ren snapped to his feet, gaze not leaving that of his uncle. “Bring me to him,” he ordered the pilot. “And don’t advance our forces until I say.” 

“Supreme Leader, don’ t be distracted!” Hux said, keeping his tone even, practical. “Our goal is to kill the Resistance! They’re helpless in the mine, but every moment we waste--” 

He was cut off when Ren lifted him bodily and hurled him against the wall as hard as he could manage. He hadn’t even granted him so much as a glance as he did so, and Hux’s head hit so hard that his vision went red, then black. 

He fell unconscious as he heard the shuttle commander assent. 

\--- 

Hux’s entire body hurt. He wanted it to. He deserved every pang.  


There were whispers. Communications that he was not privy to. He tried desperately not to care, to be proud that their new Supreme Leader wasn’t keen to lord his supremacy over him at every turn. 

He was too proud for that. Ren had humiliated him in front of his officers, bared his instability for all the world to see. That instability was not enough to get the First Order officers to band together to overthrow their insane leader. It was enough, however, to have them band together to push Hux out of favour. Out of his leadership position. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before Ren replaced him with someone much more willing to keep his head down and agree to whatever madness he had in mind. 

He should have killed Ren when he had the chance. 

When he was asleep next to Hux.

When he was unconscious in the throne room.

Hux poured himself another whisky, looking down at his destroyed comm. He had shot it over and over with his pistol until there was nothing left but a melted pile of metal and glass. He would have stomped it to smithereens had he not been so bruised. 

He downed his glass and poured another. 

He waited for what was to come. He was ready to meet it. 

He could only hope that the Supreme Leader was ready too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a lot of dialogue was lifted directly from the novelization of the film. 
> 
> The end will be completed in April.


	3. an ungentle end

_ Time is a circle. The beginning is the end.  _

  
  
  


As a rule, Hux did not remember dreams. His sleep cycles were such that when he was granted the opportunity of a handful of uninterrupted hours he fell quickly into deep, dead slumber. 

That was before. Before Starkiller. Before Ren. Before his whirlwind of a year that had stripped him bare, leaving him with nothing but a title that was his only in theory and not in practice. 

Hux didn’t remember dreams before, but now he was plagued with nightmares. There was one in particular that repeated. It was always the same-- his father’s cold voice and sharp slap. Burning humiliation when he was made to lap up a spilled drink on his hands and knees. Brooks’ amused gaze, skin ruddy with drink and smouldering arousal. He would wake up panting, eyes wet and hands clenched in his sheets. 

Recently that nightmare had evolved, changing to reflect his own changing fears. He was at the same time a child and still himself, trembling as he tried his best to bring the overfilled glass to his father. 

But it was no longer his father. He stumbled when his eyes met those of Kylo Ren, the amber liquid splashing over Ren’s boots and the lush carpet below their feet. He could hear a laugh behind them, tinny and insect-like, but he could not turn, could not look away from Ren’s heavy, disappointed gaze. 

“You already know what you must do,” Ren said, his voice a warm, neutral hum. 

Hux’s stomach quivered, but he shook his head. “I won’t,” he heard himself say, sounding much more sure than he felt. 

He braced himself for the inevitable attack-- the crush of an invisible hand around his throat, a slam to the ground, perhaps-- but it never came. Ren only clenched his jaw. “I will not ask you or beg you. I will only tell you this once. You will lick your mistake from my boot. Denying it only delays the inevitable.” 

Something about this Ren was terrifying. He was calm, collected. A still body of water, devout of his humanity. This Ren was unfamiliar and impossible to read. 

This Kylo Ren was wrong. 

The laugh from behind him again. Inhuman. Ren’s gaze did not leave him as Hux sank to his knees, tears burning his eyes. 

When his tongue met the leather of Ren’s boot he tasted nothing. He licked away the alcohol and his own tears and felt nothing. 

He sat back on his heels and looked up at Ren but it was no longer the Supreme Leader standing above him, it was Pryde. Hux’s father. Brooks. Yago. Peavey. Every man who had ever viewed him as lesser. Unworthy. He had licked their boots over and over. 

He was good for little else. 

  
\--- 

The dream had assaulted him again. He woke up gasping, mouth dry and face wet. He caught his breath and climbed out of his sweat-soaked sheets. His quarters felt stifling but his body was trembling. 

His eyes fell to his shiny new comm, a dark screen on his pristine desk. 

Fear gripped him. Fear of the unknown. Fearly of the infinitely knowable. 

He crossed to his uniform, removing the small tracker pin from the lapel and flicking it toward the deactivated cleaning droid in the corner of his closet. The magnet held fast. He picked up a roll that held the fine tools he used to perform upgrades and alterations to droids and other tech he did not find to his liking. 

He unfurled the canvas roll and spread it out on his desk. He brought up the light in his quarters before setting to work carefully, dismantling the comm. When he uncovered the tidy little circuit board he pried it loose with care, using the finest of his flathead screwdrivers to gently lift the small black bead that was inlaid in the middle of the circuitry. 

That bead stored every bit of communication that the comm engaged in, incoming or outgoing. If it were discovered that he had removed said bead it could spell the end of his career. 

He carefully placed it on his desktop and fixed it with an adhesive strip, folding it over and placing the concealed bead in the back of one of his desk drawers. 

Hux put the comm back together, powering it back up to ensure he had done so correctly. 

He pulled up the First Order communication logs, scrolling back until he found one of the coded transmissions from the Rebellion. 

He selected it and set to work untangling the code. 

He needed to contact Leia Organa. 

\---

They received communications from Exegol. 

The Supreme Leader was no longer the leader of the First Order.

They had an Emperor once more.

\--- 

He started with the frequencies that had been logged in the comms of Resistance sympathizers they had caught and interrogated. He looked for crossover, frequencies they had in common. 

_ What do you know about my mother?  _

The message was sent from a heavily-cloaked frequency. He first sent it out to only a handful, most of which simply bounced the message back as undeliverable. A few of the recipients responded with confusion, while others took the opportunity to make a joke. Hux was reminded of Dameron, of the smirk in his tone when he said that General Organa had an urgent message about his mother. Clearly Dameron thought it was humorous, but Hux only knew rage that cut to the root of his greatest insecurity. 

The first round of messages turned up nothing. 

The second round brought mostly people fishing for additional information he was not willing to provide. He was fairly certain Leia wouldn’t need to ask questions, that she would know exactly from whom the message came. 

He was getting nowhere. 

Still, he pressed on. He knew Pryde had his own game to play, and all Hux could do was hope that his skills were enough to keep Pryde’s victory at bay. 

\---

He began altering his reports. Nothing drastic, nothing that anyone would notice if they lined up a selection of them through the years. He hated being less than meticulous, but at this point it was imperative that he do so. He couldn’t trust anyone, and needed to hoard information he could use to remain in Pryde’s good graces. He didn’t think it was possible for him to be in Ren’s, not anymore, but he could make an attempt. 

He performed inspections of First Order bases and troops as normal. It was mindless work, but his face was one that was known to the galaxy. 

It was pointless until it was no longer pointless. 

All the while he kept his comm nearby, waiting. 

He had nearly given up hope when he received a message well into his normal sleep cycle. He laid with his comm tucked under his pillow, layers and layers of modified security systems in place. 

When it buzzed he sat up, fishing it out from under his pillow in stark darkness. When the screen was revealed he squinted against the bright light of it. 

**_I know more than you do._ **

The message came from a coded transmission frequency. Untraceable.

A jolt shot down Hux’s spine and he drew his legs up, resting the comm against his thighs. 

_ Tell me. Please.  _

It took so long for the response to come through that his screen had gone dark, but when he moved to bring it back to life two messages came through in quick succession. 

**_It is better if I show you._ **

The next message was a link to a letter written in swirling script. The file was stamped as a classified portion of a file on Brendol Hux that appeared to have been assembled by the Resistance. Any file that the Empire had on the man had been expunged when he had been killed, but apparently there were still pieces of the man around to come back to haunt Hux. 

The letter read: 

**_Brendol,_ **

**_I cannot allow you to take away my rights as our son’s mother. I am grateful for the opportunities you have granted me. Thank you for my education, my rooms and a steady wage. However, the gift of Armitage is the greatest gift of all. I will not hand him over when I know he could be so much more than you’d like for him to be._ **

**_I know this decision may very well lead to my end, though I do not think you would be cruel enough to deliver the killing blow yourself. Then again, I believe I am only just beginning to see the depths of your cruelty._ **

**_I will say this: You are blind. What you are doing to these children is monstrous. I will not allow my son, my precious baby, to suffer the same fate. He is small. He is fragile. He is soft. He is happiest in my arms. My work in the kitchen won’t be hindered by caring for him-- plenty of kitchen girls work with children in their skirts or strapped to their breasts._ **

**_I beg you. I demand it of you. If you ever loved me you will grant me this._ **

**_I love him more than anything, more than my own life. I will do anything to keep him safe from you and from the world._ **

**_-Ammi_ **

Hux drew in a slow breath, hating the bitterness that flooded his chest. This woman thought that appealing to Brendol’s emotions would get her somewhere. Instead of just bundling him up and disappearing from Arkanis she wrote this silly little letter, a letter that was paramount to treason. She claimed to be aware that the letter may have led to her own demise, but had she been? Did she really think that Brendol Hux would allow a son of his to grow up as anything but a carbon copy, as close to a clone as he dared tread?

She was as much of a fool as Hux had always assumed. 

_ One only made the mistake of assuming that Brendol Hux had a heart once. The girl was doomed from the moment he lay his eyes on her.  _

Even still, Hux read over the letter again. Again. He imagined a young woman, hardly more than a child, sitting down with her newborn babe asleep at her breast, shaking with fear as she tearfully poured her heart out to a man who promised to take care of her. 

How long had she survived after that? 

**_If only you could control who you loved. I suspect it would have saved both of us a lot of heartache._ **

Hux felt a cold stone settle in his stomach before another message came through. 

**_A mother’s love is never really gone, Armitage. Remember that._ **

Hux was trembling. It was her, it had to be. He had found Leia Organa after all. His fingers shook as he typed out his response. 

_ I need your help and you need mine. He has to lose. It’s the only way to ensure he isn’t lost. If he isn’ t already too far gone.  _

Her response was immediate. 

**_Please don’t tell me he’s too far gone._ **

Hux hated this. Hated being unsure. He knew that in many ways Ren was too far gone, at least from him. 

But perhaps he wasn’t from his mother. 

_ You’re his only hope.  _

There was a sharp click as a tear landed on the screen of his comm and he wiped it away quickly. Another file came through, an image. 

It wasn’t the best quality, as it seemed to have been taken for a photo identification of some sort. The woman had copper hair that fell in gentle waves around her round, soft face. She had more freckles than Hux himself did, but had the same green eyes, even if hers were wider. She wasn’t quite smiling in the image, but she wasn’t frowning either. If anything, she looked surprised. 

Ammi. 

There was no way to know where she was born. There was no way to know how long she’d been able to care for him before he’d been snatched away and dumped into the arms of nannies until he was old enough to be shipped off into training. Brendol’s wife was visibly disgusted by him, and he remembered looking down at Arkanis as they were evacuated and feeling  _ sad _ for her. For a woman who’d told him she’d never love him. Even Brendol hadn’t done that. 

He waited for more from Leia. It didn’t come. 

He carefully wiped the messages from his comm and re-placed it under his pillow. 

He dreamt of warmth. Of freshly-baking bread and sweet milk. Sunshine and a gentle, off-tune voice singing. 

He woke up crying. 

\--- 

Hux couldn’t see Ren’s expression from this distance, but he was fairly certain he could have illustrated it from memory if called upon. His eyes would be wide and wild. Teeth bared. Scar livid and face splattered with blood. 

There would be nothing there that could be recognized as human, not anymore. Ren was nothing more than a blunt instrument, a weapon of destruction based on brute strength and not precision. There would be nothing behind his eyes but singular obsession-- a drive forward that would come to a violent end. 

Let him take out his uncontrollable emotions on these colonizers. Better them than Hux. 

“He’s gone mad. Flames of rebellion burn across the galaxy and Ren chases a ghost,” Hux spat, careful to watch Pryde’s reaction to his words. Pryde’s lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile, but otherwise his expression revealed nothing. 

There was something there that Hux couldn’t quite identify, something that filled him with something dangerously close to dread. 

The way that Pryde looked at Ren made Hux uneasy. His gaze was not one of admiration or lust, but one of hunger. He was a man on the brink of starvation presented with a four-course meal, poised to accept the feast. 

Little did he know that such a feast was wasted on a starving man. He’d be too ill to continue before his hunger had been sated. 

Pryde was hungry for other things. The power that Ren wielded, the future that he signified. His drive toward Palpatine, the power and secrets his absolute darkness represented. 

There was so much that Hux didn’t know, nor care to know. Pryde carried himself as a man who had never known insecurity or uncertainty. A man who saw those things as an admittance of failure or weakness. 

Hux would probably have agreed with him mere months ago. Now he saw this uncertainty as an opportunity. A chance. He wished to be Supreme Leader, this was true, and all he had to do was stop Ren. Dispose of Pryde. Convince Leia that they were better as a united front, two capable leaders with the same goal in mind. 

Peace. 

Hux didn’t understand why Ren had insisted on them accompanying him to Mustafar, save perhaps showing his high command that of which he was capable. 

Hux was melting under his greatcoat, cursing the miserable volcanic hellscape that lay stretched around them. The air smelled of rot and blood, and something about this place brought back unpleasant memories of his early years on Arkanis. 

After Ren dispatched with every last colonizer he pressed on, the air around him charged with the sharp electricity of his rage. 

Hux had enough. He turned to board the cruiser that had brought them to this absolute cesspool of the galaxy. He didn’t allow himself to strip off his greatcoat but was instantly more at ease amidst the cool mechanics of the cruiser. It was not long after that Pryde and the stormtroopers arrived. “The Supreme Leader will continue his mission alone,” Pryde said, watching with cool, detached interest as the pilot readied the cruiser for departure. 

“Of course he will,” Hux said before he could stop himself. Pryde levelled him with a snarl that was heavy with disdain.

“You are the general of his command vessel. You will grant assistance as necessary and follow the Supreme Leader’s command,” Pryde said in a clipped tone. “There are countless others who would be more than happy to take your place. It would behoove you to watch your tongue, General.” 

“Of course, Allegient General,” Hux replied in a tone he hoped was appropriately humbled. 

When he took his seat, however, he was fuming. His fingers tapped against his comm, tucked away in his breast pocket. 

Only a matter of time. 

\---

At first, Hux thought he was dreaming. There was a soft, repetitive chirp coming from his holopad and it took a moment for his fatigued mind to piece together that someone was trying to connect with him. He had barely made to move from his bed when it flared to life, General Organa’s lined face looming large over his desk. She didn’t seem concerned that he was in his sleeping clothes in bed. Something about her expression softened as Hux tried to smooth down his hair. “Tell me your plan,” she said without preamble. 

Hux cleared his sleep-clogged throat. “We’ve been instructed to do an inspection. You’ve got an informant there, I can leave the data pad with him. Have your people retrieve it as quickly as possible. Time is of the essence here, he will no longer be delayed.” 

“I think you know better than to try to delay him,” Leia said with a weary sort of smile, suddenly looking so much older than she was. Ren had aged her prematurely. This war had. “I won’t say anything to Boolio until after the data has been dropped. He’s not the most discreet informant we have.” 

Hux wrinkled his nose. “Yes, well. As long as he lives long enough for this. Princess... “ 

“Leia, please,” Leia interjected, shaking her head. “I haven’t answered to that title in a long time, and I suspect you’d chafe a bit at addressing me as General.” 

”I think you already know what this message entails, what he’s trying to do,” Hux said, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “The girl…” 

“Rey’s only a portion of his focus,” Leia said. “He will do whatever is required of him to gain power.” 

Hux smoothed the flat of his hand over his standard issue blanket. “I’m well aware.” 

Leia was silent so long that Hux thought she had ended the transmission. When he looked up she was watching him thoughtfully. “You’ll do whatever is required of you too, won’t you?” 

Hux wasn’t sure if this was a legitimate question or an accusation. If she was seeing right through him and his need for revenge. Punishment. His bleeding wounds, his shattered pride. His desperate need to keep Kylo Ren from winning in an effort to save… well. To save the man who Kylo Ren had destroyed. 

Leia seemed satisfied with his silence. “Go back to sleep, General Hux. Take advantage of the opportunity to rest while you can. Soon enough I will be able to rest as well.” 

He opened his mouth to reply but her image flickered out of view. He was left in darkness. 

Hux settled back down in his bed and fell asleep quickly, as though compelled to. 

He didn’t dream. 

\---

Cold dread settled in his stomach when high command was called together by Ren. When Hux filed in and saw the Knights of Ren his jaw clenched. 

Ren no longer trusted the First Order to be of any assistance to him. The Knights were loyal to him as their leader bought by blood. They would do as he commanded without hesitation or question.They were mindless executioners. 

Ren no longer wanted any input but his own. 

The bloody helmet was back in place, pieced back together by some material that glowed as red as his lightsaber. The unease among the First Order’s high command was palpable, and Hux clasped his hands together in his lap as Ren unceremoniously dumped the severed head of the Resistance informant onto the conference room table. Hux was pleased to note that even Pryde flinched. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before it was discovered that there was a spy within the First Order. He hadn’t considered that it would happen so quickly, that Ren would take the interrogation of the informant into his own hands. Ren could get any information he wanted from anyone. 

Hux did his best to clear his mind, put up shields that he was never quite sure were effective against Ren. He stared straight into the dark screen of Ren’s mask while the rest of the commanders around the table shifted uneasily, subtly attempting to move farther away from the gore on the table. 

“I sense unease about my appearance, General Hux,” Ren’s modulated voice toned from the head of the table. A cold chill shot down Hux’s spine as he swallowed thickly. 

“About the mask? No, sir. Well done,” Hux said, his tone clipped. He knew that he wasn’t particularly convincing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

**Sir. Coming from you that sounds like an insult.**

Hux felt a muscle jump in his jaw, eyes drifting from the endless black of the mask to a damp spot on Ren’s tunic. Blood, perhaps.  _ Yes, well. Take it as you will. You know how I feel about that bloody mask. _

**You aren’t uneasy about the mask. You’re uneasy about my appearance in general. Me being here.**

Quinn was blathering on about the cultists on Exegol and Hux’s stomach was cramping, the familiar press of Ren in his mind enough to awaken a panicking creature inside his chest.  _ I’m sure you can understand why _ Hux offered, trying his best to not offer evidence of the panic overwhelming him. 

**You want to see my face.**

Hux clenched his fists at his sides and turned away. He looked instead to Pryde, who did not miss the opportunity to poke at the open wound that was Starkiller base. 

He hadn’t wanted someone dead quite so much since Brooks. 

Quinn was still pressing for more information. “This fleet, what is it? A gift? What is he asking for in return? Does he…” he was cut off and Hux looked over, his cheeks turning a telltale shade of puce as his body was slammed against the ceiling above the conference table, his hands scrambling at his throat as he fought against the invisible hand tightening around his windpipe. 

“Prepare to crush any worlds that defy us,” Ren instructed the remaining officers. None of them were looking upward at Quinn as his life drained away. “In the meantime, my Knights and I are going hunting for the scavenger.” 

The implication was with the Knights at his side they would find the girl and kill her, but Hux knew better. Ren would do whatever it took to win the girl over to his side. 

He wanted her alive. 

As soon as Ren and the Knights had left the conference room Quinn’s lifeless body fell to the conference table with a hollow resonance. Hux heard the snap of some body part, most likely his nose, and he pushed back from the table, his hand instinctively going to the blaster at his hip. 

**Better him than you.**

The words echoed in his skull loud enough that it seemed that Ren had spoken them directly into his ear. He could almost feel the heat of his breath, the tickle of it against his neck. Hux’s hair stood on end. 

He stood abruptly, intent on going back to his quarters. 

He was afraid Ren would be in his quarters. He pulled out his comm with shaking hands and saw that no, Ren was in his own quarters, presumably with the Knights. Hux let himself into his quarters and dropped down on his bed, letting out a shaking breath. 

Ren had just arrived on the  _ Steadfast _ and Hux already wanted him as far away as the galaxy would allow. 

\---

**_He’s onboard, isn’t he?_ **

_ Yes. He’s close to finding the girl. She has to get away. _

**_She’s not listening to anyone. They are like magnets. Drawn across the galaxy to one another._ **

_ Then she has to be eliminated. They cannot meet.  _

**_Don’t worry about her. I sense you are in immediate danger._ **

_ I’m always in immediate danger, I’m a general in a war. Surely you understand.  _

**_Of course I do. But I mean more immediate than that. Find your allies and wear a blaster proof vest._ **

_ I’ve always done that.  _

**_Good. Smart boy._ **

_ I know how easy it is to be picked off. I’ve picked off plenty.  _

**_Allies. Do you have any aboard?_ **

_ None that I believe who would assist me.  _

**_Find someone who will if you need to make a quick getaway. Find someone or you will surely die._ **

_ Why are you trying to protect me?  _

**_Because Ben would want me to._ **

_ Ben doesn’t know me. Ben doesn’t exist.  _

**_You’re wrong. I can feel him, and you’ve felt him too. He’s still there, deep down. He’d want me to make sure you survived this if at all possible. Be careful, Armitage. It’s wise to accept you have no allies on the_ ** **Steadfast** **_._ **

_ I haven’t had allies since Starkiller fell.  _

**_Find one._ **

_ I’ll try.  _

**_Good. I’m tired, Armitage._ **

_ I am sorry, Leia.  _

**_Love him enough for the both of us._ **

_ You know I can’t do that.  _

**_But you can try._ **

_ I can try, yes.  _

**_If you ever make it here ask Connix for what I’ve given her. I’d like for Ben to have it, if he returns. You’re less likely to dispose of it in misplaced sadness than he is. You will know when the time is right._ **

_ Are all Force users so cryptic or is this a uniquely Skywalker trait?  _

**_That is a good question. It seems to be something at which the Skywalkers excel. Ben will be the last. The bloodline dies when he does._ **

_ Perhaps that is for the best.  _

**_Perhaps._ **

Hux wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead he flipped through his contacts, ultimately landing on Dopheld Mitaka’s frequency. He’d requested transfer after Starkiller, which had infuriated Hux at first. Mitaka lacked the ambition he originally thought he had, but they had parted on neutral terms. 

Maybe. 

He tapped out a message, marking it urgent. 

He could hope. 

\---

  
  


_ Armitage woke up to soft kisses. Down his neck, over his breastbone, against each of his ribs. He could hear the gentle purr of their cat somewhere above his head and the tickling brush of Ben’s hair against his belly.  _

_ “What are you doing?” Armitage asked, stretching his arms up over his head. Millie brushed against his elbow before stretching herself and hopping down off the bed, her tail swishing impatiently. They always left a window open just enough for her to slip in and out as she pleased, an agreement that they came to when Ben finally relented and let the cat into the house. She was off for her morning hunt.  _

_ Armitage squirmed when he felt Ben’s teeth scrape against the coarse hair below his belly button, which seemed to have been his desired reaction since he chuckled from under the blankets. “What does it look like I’m doing?” Ben’s voice sounded from under the blankets, muffled a bit against his skin.  _

_ Armitage huffed. “I don’t know what it looks like, I can’t see you!” he replied. Ben threw back the blankets dramatically and Armitage curled in onto himself, suddenly exposed and shocked by the cold.  _

_ Ben’s hair was mussed and his lips were swollen. He licked them slowly before smirking up at Armitage, looking much like Millicent did when Ben would relent and give her fresh milk. “You can see me now,” he said before leaning forward, scraping his teeth over the jut of his hip bone. He would never be anything more than a rail, but Ben seemed to revel in any newly discovered curve on Armitage’s body. The longer Ben could fatten him up the happier he seemed to be.  _

_ Armitage didn’t mind the spoiling.  _

_ He closed his eyes, mind still muddy with sleep as he was peppered with tender kisses and scrapes of teeth. Ben had moved back up his body slowly, sliding his tongue over the freckle-dusted skin of Armitage’s shoulder, Ben’s naked arse settling over his growing arousal. “I’ve missed you,” Ben said against his neck, hands sliding down Armitage’s arms so that he could tangle their fingers together.  _

_ “I haven’t been anywhere,” Armitage replied, turning his face just slightly so his lips brushed against Ben’s hair.  _

_ “I have.”  _

_ Armitage’s brow furrowed and he opened his eyes, the darkness of their bedroom early morning replaced with the stark white of an unfamiliar star ship.  _

_ Except it wasn’t unfamiliar.  _

_ “Let me go,” Hux hissed as he tried to wrench his hands free from Ren’s grip, but the other man wouldn’t. He was pinning Hux’s body down to the bed, the both of them still stripped bare. “Let me go and leave me alone.”  _

_ Ren’s face was creased in a confused, performative frown. “You don’t really want that,” he said, moving his hips in a deliberate little circle.  _

_ “If I wanted this with you I would have indicated so outside of this blatant invasion on my mind,” Hux said, the words coming slowly as though they were having to be dragged out of his throat. Like Ren was doing everything in his power to keep them from coming. “Let me go before you break something that cannot be repaired.”  _

_ Ren squeezed his wrists even tighter. “You already think I have,” he said. “Don’t you?”  _

_ That was a fair question. Until those words had come out of his mouth he had thought that Ren’s only true skill was destruction. “I am afraid of you,” Hux said before swallowing thickly with an audible click.  _

_ Ren was silent for a long time before he pulled his hands back. Hux flexed his fingers. “I fear myself,” Ren admitted, his words a whisper lost to sudden, swirling darkness.  _

  
  


\--- 

Hux gasped as he woke, hand grasping at the collar of his shirt. His breathing was harsh and panicked as he scrambled for his comm, pulling up Ren’s tracker. 

In his chambers. Alone. He’d had the overwhelming fear that he’d pull the tracker open and Ren would be right outside his chambers, poised to enter. Or worse, already inside, lurking in the darkness like a monster from Hux’s darkest childhood nightmares. 

But he wasn’t. He was tucked away in his chambers, physically far away but close enough to toy with Hux’s mind. His dreams. 

He took a deep, slow breath, trying to calm his racing heart. 

He waited to hear Ren’s voice in his head, asking for company. For forgiveness, perhaps. 

Ren would find neither, not here. Not with him. 

No voice filled his mind. 

He tried not to be disappointed by it.

\--- 

The  _ Steadfast  _ felt strange with Ren and his Knights on board. The Knights were a constant presence, looming behind their masks and ridiculous outfits. Hux had no idea what they were reporting back to Ren, if they were acting as spies in search of the mole in the First Order ranks.

There was a high probability that they had no interest in any of these matters. After all, their only loyalty was to Ren. 

Even still, Hux would have been far more comfortable if they all removed their bloody masks and respected any mode of decorum that the First Order held. They were always being trailed by clearly distressed cleaning droids furiously sweeping up the grime their filthy boots left behind. 

A bitter part of Hux’s brain hoped that every one of them were horribly disfigured, requiring the masks to breathe like Lord Vader had. It was a cold comfort, perhaps, but one could hope. 

It was unlikely. They were probably in the same situation as Ren-- too young and transparent to garner any sort of fear without them. 

This was a very large part of why Hux hated Ren’s mask so much. It allowed him to cloak his rage, shield his expressive face until the moment that he chose to strike. 

The mask took away Hux’s ability to predict Ren’s next move. He hated it. 

When Hux won he would destroy the helmet himself, shatter it into so many pieces that there would be no chance of rebuilding it again. 

Ren would kneel at his feet. Hux had no special powers with which he could compel the fallen Jedi, but he would demand it all the same. 

Ren would kneel. 

Hux would take great handfuls of his hair, tug them away from his scalp and snip them away, lock after non-regulation lock. 

Ren would fume but would say nothing. His eyes would burn as he stared into Hux’s face, but he would do nothing to fight back. 

He would take it on his knees and thank his Supreme Leader for the personal attention he had been granted. 

  
  


When Ren appeared, clutching a fistful of beads and ordering that their origin be traced, Hux seized the opportunity. 

“When she’s found I’ll personally take the kill squads,” Hux offered, rolling his shoulders back slightly. 

The scavenger had to be eliminated. Hux knew that if Ren managed to capture her alive that he would be close to unstoppable. She had to die. Leia wouldn’t be happy about that, she seemed to care greatly for the girl, but Ren was a dog with a bone. He was convinced that he could only achieve his full potential and power with the scavenger at his side, and therefore he could not be allowed to have her. She was too powerful and too dangerous.

Hux hated the girl with every fibre of his being. 

“My Knights will lead the hunt,” Ren said dismissively. The fact that he did not trust the First Order to deliver the girl to him unharmed went unsaid. The fact that he did not trust Hux to deliver the girl to him at all was all the more evident. 

Pryde was speaking, pompous as ever, and Ren was...listening. Not snapping or dismissing his input. How on earth had this man waltzed into the middle of the bloody war and won Ren’s favour so easily? How was it that he never incurred his wrath? 

What did Pryde have on Kylo Ren? 

Hux was a tangled ball of frustration as they sent squads to Kimiji. That frustration mounted as he watched Ren’s TIE Whisper zip off along with them. 

It lessened when his stormtroopers captured the Wookie after an otherwise worthless mission.  _ His  _ Stormtroopers, not Ren’s Knights. He relished in the ability to prove that they weren’t all-knowing and all capable like Ren seemed to think they were. Pryde himself seemed dismissive until Hux dropped that final bit of knowledge-- they had the Wookie in captivity, waiting to be interrogated. Hux himself didn’t speak Wookie but he could find a droid to translate if he could stand being in the same room as the creature for long enough to get any information. 

The smell could be quite overwhelming. 

But no. He was instructed to wait, to allow Ren to return to interrogate the creature himself. This seemed like a rather blaring conflict of interest to Hux, but he saw no point in bringing this up to Pryde. Ren being in charge of the First Order at all was a conflict of interest: his mother was a general in the Resistance. The entire war was a conflict of interest. 

Hux was curious as to what information that Chewbacca could give him about Ren when he was a child. How insecure he must have been, how volatile. He hated that he was curious about this, about what Ren was like before he was Ren. He’d seen hints of it when they first met, hints of the child kneeling at the feet of his father and begging for validation. 

He’d seen a hint of that child when he’d ordered the destruction of Luke Skywalker, fear so evident in his face that Hux himself felt fear. 

Ren didn’t spend much time with the Wookie at all. He came out if the interrogation chamber tense with rage, demanding the belongings that had been taken from Chewbacca when he had been captured. His voice was dark, colored with rage. 

It seemed to take ages for them to track the origins of the beads that Ren had snatched from the scavenger’s neck. 

Hux suggested the destruction of Kimiji, but was stunned into silence with Ren stuck his long gloved finger in his face. He clenched his jaw shut tight, the muscles there aching from having done this particular action so frequently. t

**Your jealousy is ridiculous and misplaced, Hux. Remember your place.**

_ I hate you. I hate you and I look forward to watching you die.  _

Hux’s anger was such that his eyes watered. He wanted to look away, to hide how affected he was by such a simple gesture, but he didn’t. Let Ren see. Let him hear those words, let them be branded into his brain. Let him never forget just how much Hux hated him in that moment. 

Ren turned to go, Pryde following not far behind. Hux wasn’t sure how he managed to always say the wrong thing, how Pryde… 

**Careful, Hux.**

Hux swallowed thickly as he watched the tail of Ren’s cloak disappear around the corner. 

Hux clenched his jaw and set off to his quarters, waiting until he was behind his secured door to pull out his comm and send a message to Leia updating her on the Wookie’s status. He was sure a rescue brigade was not far behind, but she should be aware that Ren had been in charge of the interrogation. He had not been at it long, but there was no telling the severity of what had occurred between the pair of them. 

He received no answer from her. 

Hux then switched over to Mitaka’s frequency, checking for any new messages from him besides the vague, non-committal message he’d received back after his equally vague request for assistance. Perhaps it was the best he could ask for. 

Perhaps he had asked for too much already. 

He tucked away his comm and returned to his station. Pryde was nowhere to be found, which was fine by Hux. He could focus on the mundane day to day tasks of ship operation as the course was set for Kimiji.

\---

The Resistance rescue mission was pitiful at best. They were nearly instantly captured and sentenced to death, and Hux… well. He couldn’t let that happen. However idiotic this particular group of rebels were, they were the group that knew the most about the inner workings of the First Order. The way that FN-2187-- Finn-- looked at him was enough for him to know that he could not allow them to die on the  _ Steadfast _ . 

Hux went with the stormtroopers who had been ordered to execute them. He wondered if Finn knew them, had trained with them. They reached the execution chamber and Hux’s hand came to settle on the hilt of his blaster as he slowly adjusted the setting to the highest one. Dameron and Finn began to bicker like children and Hux volunteered to execute them himself. He was rather tempted to do it to silence them, but it wasn’t worth Leia’s wrath. 

He felt nothing as the stormtroopers fell. He felt vindicated when he announced to them that he was the spy. Dameron seemed smug and everyone else seemed stunned as Hux volunteered to take them back to the Falcon, which was on the brink of being destroyed. Had Ren still been there, it would have been destroyed the moment it had been found. 

Hux was tempted to run but he knew it would look even more suspicious than him escorting them at blaster-point. 

He took them as far as he dared and handed over his blaster. “Blast me in the arm quick, or they’ll know,” he requested, motioning to his arm and steeling himself. He hadn’t the time to think through any of this plan, he’d only acted. The gravity of what he’d done settled on him when Finn spoke. 

“I could kill you.” 

“You need me,” Hux replied. He didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, the frantic nature of it. 

The searing pain of blaster fire shot through his thigh and he collapsed to the ground. His blaster had still been on the highest setting, of course it had. It would take him ages to hobble down to medical and have a droid patch him up. 

“Why are you helping us?” Finn asked, the blaster held low at his side as he looked down at Hux.

Hux took a shaking breath, his blood burning. “I don’t care if you win,” he hissed. “I need Kylo Ren to lose.” 

They seemed confused but didn’t ask for any additional information. 

They left. 

Hux laid there, blinking tears from his eyes and breathing heavily. He worked up the will and dragged himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall of the corridor all the way to his chambers. He couldn’t make it to medical. 

His altered little droid could manage well enough. 

He couldn’t stomach the thought of removing his trousers, so he just ripped the hole a bit wider so that bacta gel could be applied to the wound in excess. He assisted the droid with shaking hands, wrapping the bandage around the wound tightly. “Fetch me a cane,” he instructed the droid, laying back on his bed and taking deep breaths. It felt like his lungs were being compressed, like his blaster vest was growing tighter and tighter. 

He reached down to try to unbutton his shirt to loosen the vest but his hands were shaking too much to do so. 

He gasped, watery eyes locked onto the ceiling. He wanted a stim to take the edge off of this pain and panic. 

But he couldn’t, not now. He needed to go and report the prisoner’s escape to Pryde. Sooner rather than later. The longer he delayed… 

He dug out his comm and sent out a series of messages. First to Leia. 

_ There is a good possibility this is my last day on the  _ Steadfast _. Thank you for all you have done for me.  _

Then to Mitaka. 

_ I hope you have done as I asked, Dopheld. You know I will assist you however I can.  _

The droid returned with a collapsible cane that Hux used to hoist himself off of the bed. He felt a hot pulse of pain that made him nauseous but he pressed forward. 

\---

Pryde wouldn’t even look at him. 

“It was a coordinated incursion, Allegiant General. They overpowered the guards and forced me to take them to their ship,” Hux said, eyes downcast. He could feel the hot slide of the bacta gel down the inside of his thigh. He leaned heavily on the cane. 

“I see,” Pryde said as he drew up next to a stormtrooper. “Get me the Supreme Leader.” 

Hux knew what he was going to do right before he did it. There was no time to brace himself, which was probably for the best. Pryde snatched the blaster from the stormtrooper’s hands and fired, hitting Hux point blank in the chest and blasting him backwards. 

“Tell him we found our spy,” Pryde drawled. 

The sound that escaped Hux was inhuman. He tried to draw in a breath but he couldn’t, and his hands scrambled against the polished floor. His vision began to darken and it felt like his chest had caved in, every nerve ending in his body alight with pain. 

His last thought was of the scavenger. He hated that girl. He had ruined everything. Yet over and over again, she had faced Ren and survived. It gave him one bright shining spark of hope against the oncoming dark: Ren might still lose. 

Then that spark, too, was consumed by darkness, and Hux knew no more. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


\--- 

_ Hux felt nothing. He knew nothing. He heard nothing.  _

_ It was a welcome feeling.  _

_ He opened his eyes but it was just as dark, so he closed them again.  _

_ He felt alone.  _

_ And small.  _

  
  


_ He was alone until he no longer felt alone.  _

_ He felt someone. Warm and familiar like an embrace.  _

_ That presence was soon joined by another, one that shocked his heart back into beating.  _

_ “Ben!”  _

_ Leia’s voice. Hux felt a rush of life and love and hope and forgiveness and he let out a gasp.  _

_ Hux felt something that was both familiar and alien in equal measure.  _

_ The Force.  _

_ Through the Force came a mighty sundering, and Hux felt a sharp pain in his middle that forced him back, back, back…  _

\---

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hux opened his eyes. 

He was in an escape pod. 

He fumbled for his comm and pulled open the tracker for Ren. 

He let out a shuttering moan when he saw Ren’s beacon in the middle of the water that engulfed the wreckage of the Death Star. 

He was gone. 

He was gone. 

Hux expected to feel something other than overwhelming grief. 

Triumph, perhaps. Relief, even. 

He had wanted this for so long, and now that he had it he would do anything to take it back. He gasped and brought a hand to his chest, which felt deeply bruised. 

“Deep breaths, General,” Mitaka’s voice sounded from the front of the pod. 

Hux tried to speak but he couldn’t. 

The girl had killed him. She’d killed him. 

Now what? 

“I’ve been tracing the Allegiant General’s coded communications since you contacted me, and it seems like he was placed on the  _ Steadfast _ in order to report directly to Emperor Palpatine,” Mitaka said in a rush. “His allegiance was never to the First Order, it was to him. Palpatine wanted Kylo Ren, and he also knew that Ren wanted to kill him. That was the plan all along. If Ren killed him, Palpatine could transfer his consciousness and his power.” He glanced over his shoulder at Hux, eyes wide.

“Ren’s dead,” Hux said softly, his throat tight. “He’s dead.” 

Mitaka was quiet for a beat. “Then it’s the girl. He’ll go after the girl.” 

Hux didn’t care about the girl. Let her die. Her purpose had been served. “Where are we going?” Hux asked softly. 

“I received coordinates, I programmed them in,” Mitaka said. “Rest, we’ve got a while still.” 

Hux closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. 

Ren was dead. 

Ren was dead. 

\---

Ajan Kloss was hot. That was the first thing that struck Hux when they arrived, the cloying heat. Mitaka was kind enough to help him out of his destroyed blaster vest and seemed rather intent to get him to the nearest medical droid, but Hux had other plans. 

He must find Leia. Besides the little group he’d helped escape, she was the only one who could explain his presence here amongst them. 

As soon as he began to encounter people, however, he knew something was terribly wrong. He could hear the Wookie, its terrible cries. Clumps of them were crying and clinging to one another, and Hux felt terribly out of place amongst their overwhelming grief. 

They had lost someone too, and the sinking dread he felt pointed to their leader. Their general. 

Their princess. 

Mitaka hovered somewhere behind his shoulder. “We should leave them be,” he said under his breath. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

“I have to see her,” Hux replied, surging forward. His steps were as laborious as if he were wading through quicksand. He was a ghost walking amongst them. No one noticed. No one saw. No one cared. 

He saw Dameron first. Of course he did. He was holding tightly to the former stormtrooper, whispering some sort of comfort against his temple, and when he and Hux locked eyes Dameron’s face flashed through a myriad of emotions that would have been comical under any other circumstances. 

“Where is she?” Hux asked before Dameron could speak. 

“She’s gone,” Dameron snapped, his tone raw. Dangerous. “You can’t kill her anymore.” 

Hux swallowed around the lump in his throat, shaking his head. “I don’t… you don’t understand. I need…” Hux felt his knees go weak and a sharp pain seized his chest. He had broken ribs, he was sure of it. “I need to see her. Please.” 

Dameron still looked as if he wanted to argue. The stormtrooper looked even more mutinous. Dameron nodded towards a little covered shelter a few paces away and Hux stumbled forward. 

This was a nightmare. Everything about this was ghoulish. 

He had always imagined Leia Organa as this figure that towered over the galaxy. Brash and quick-witted and clever and brave. The first person to point out injustice and the last to sit idly by as stronger forces overpowered weaker planets. 

No one had ever loomed quite so large in Hux’s mind. 

That was something he had never considered before, not until he saw here lying there, diminished. 

She was so small. 

Hux didn’t feel worthy. 

She had been needlessly kind. She’d looked out for him, worried over him. 

Cared for him, if only because he cared for her son. 

She had been everything that Maretelle Hux should have been, who Ammi should have been allowed to be. 

He had been robbed. Ben Solo had been robbed. Palpatine had poisoned him against his parents using a grotesque puppet. 

But Ren had been loved. Desperately so. Han Solo had spared his son from having to make the decision to kill him. He’d taken that choice away. 

And Ren… he couldn’t kill his mother. His hands and saber were drenched with blood but no amount of brainwashing could convince him that his mother didn’t love him. She may have feared him, been angry with him, but she had loved him just as fiercely. 

A horrifying thought flashed through Hux’s mind. 

Had she felt her son die? 

Had she felt his life force drain away through the Force and realise she had nothing left? Her husband, her brother, and now her only son, lost to her. There was nothing left for which to live, so she just- didn’t. 

She stopped. 

Her hand was cold and unnaturally heavy in his. Hux could feel every delicate bone under the soft, thin skin that covered them. Her jewelry seemed too-large on her small hands, but it still managed to look stately. 

She had never looked anything but. 

“You reported directly to her. You reached out to her.” 

Hux slid the back of his hand along the underside of his jaw, wiping away the tears that had gathered there. He nodded, swallowing with an audible click. 

“Why?” Dameron’s tone was low and accusatory. “You spent your entire life training to lead the First Order. That little speech you gave before you fired your weapon… impressive. Stirring. Is this just petty revenge on your part? You aren’t daddy’s favorite boy anymore, so you run to mommy to tattle?” 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Hux said, his voice a miserable growl. Dameron had always been the crown jewel of Leia’s fleet of pilots. He’d never had to prove himself. 

“Then explain it to me,” Dameron pressed. “If you’re going to stay here you’re going to be of use.” 

Hux gently lay down Leia’s hand, moving to replace the fabric they had draped her with. She would be laid to rest so far from the rest of her family-- their ashes were spread across the galaxy like stars. Ren in his watery grave, Solo in the far reaches of space, Skywalker one with the Force, and now her, committed to the ground. 

“Point me to the team responsible for destroying the  _ Steadfast _ ,” Hux said. His body was bruised and sore and broken, but this he could do. 

Dameron’s lips almost quirked into a smile. 

\--- 

Hux didn’t understand why FN-2187 seemed so fond of him. Perhaps it wasn’t fondness as much as he was a touchstone of familiarity in an otherwise chaotic world. He was worried over the scavenger as much as Hux had once worried over Ren, and being able to focus on bringing down the Final Order gave them all something to do. 

“We don’t have blueprints of a megadestroyer, we don’t know how different they are to the others,” Rose said as she poured over her comm, flipping through file after file. 

“If I can have drafting paper I can draw you one,” Hux said, hissing through his teeth as the medical droid working on his leg ripped off a particularly well-stuck piece of bandage. 

“You can draft blueprints by hand from memory?” Rose asked doubtfully, her eyebrows raised. 

“General Hux was known for that,” Finn said as he scrambled to get the requested supplies, setting up a place for Hux to do his work. Mitaka surged forward to move Hux’s caff and the remnants of his breakfast aside before helping unroll and pin down the draft paper. 

Hux started with broad strokes. He filled in access points and placement of weapons with the occasional input from Mitaka. Finn and Rose hovered over their shoulders and talked to one another under their breath. 

“If we destroy the cannons then they’ll implode, they’ll take out the whole ship,” Rose said, tapping the large cannon. Hux wrinkled his nose when her finger smudged the pencil line. 

“And we already know they can’t take off without the signal towers, and the ground team has that covered,” Finn said with a nod. 

“And how do you plan to get close enough to do that?” Mitaka asked. His question could easily have been judgemental, even dismissive, but he was looking at Rose in something that was close to awe. 

Finn hummed. “I have a plan. I’ll go talk to Poe. We’ve got to talk to everyone. I… I think this will work. This will work.” 

Hux wasn’t sure if Finn wanted a chorus of agreements or if he was talking to himself, but either way Hux stood, putting his hands on his lower back and stretching his sore muscles slowly. His bruises were taking ages to fade. His ribs were hot shards. He pressed on. 

It was all any of them could do. 

Mitaka was engrossed in conversation with the lot of rebels and Hux found himself walking in the direction of the Falcon. He drew up short, shaking his head a bit to himself. General Calrissian had taken it back over as pilot. 

He pulled the holo photograph he’d stolen from the Falcon out of his pocket, looking down at the smiling face of a very small Ben Solo in the arms of the Wookie. 

He’d have to give it back. He knew he’d have to give it back, but right now… 

He needed that smile. That bright, carefree smile. 

Something he had never seen. Something he could never see again. 

As he tucked away the photograph he saw a frantic-looking woman rushing by. “Where can I find Lieutenant Connix?” he called out to her, taking a step forward. 

“She’s working on establishing communications protocol for the upcoming battle, there,” the woman replied, motioning toward a bustling tent. 

Hux nodded, already feeling the heat of the morning prickling his sun-reddened skin. He tugged off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. 

One last thing for Leia. 

\--- 

_ Millicent was drooling onto Armitage’s chest, her purrs loud and squeaky. He settled a hand on her back and wiggled his toes, reaching out for Ben.  _

_ Ben wasn’t there.  _

_ He frowned and sat up in a rush, displacing Millie. She let out an unhappy yowl but curled up in the spot left empty beside him, the spot where Ben should be.  _

_ Armitage went to look out of the window for him, but he wasn’t there. Neither were his muck boots, or his bucket, or his jacket. Armitage went out in the rain to look down along the beachline for Ben.  _

_ He had to be here.  _

_ But he wasn’t.  _

_ Armitage was drenched and muddy when he ran back inside, throwing open the door to Ben’s closet.  _

_ It was empty.  _

_ It was as if he had never been here, as if Armitage had always been alone.  _

_ He plucked Ben’s pillow off of the bed and buried his face in it, searching for the familiar warm scent of his hair.  _

_ There was nothing.  _

_ He was trembling from cold and panic and unnameable loss.  _

_ The ring on his hand was gone.  _

_ He curled his hand into a fist, and he felt Millie sink her claws into his side as she stretched upward, arching her back as she opened her mouth in a wide yawn.  _

_ This had to be a dream. If he could wake up this would all be over and Ben would be right there beside him and everything could go back to normal.  _

_ Millie’s claws didn’t hurt, so he pinched the inside of his elbow hard. Nothing.  _

_ He pinched and scratched and it wasn’t until he landed a blow against his own ribs that he felt a surge of pain.  _

\---

He gasped and awoke, his ribcage pounding.

The threads of the dream were slipping away quickly but he was okay with letting them go. It hadn’t been pleasant. He didn’t want to remember. 

Even in his dreams he was alone. 

\---

The forces left in the midst of organized chaos. Hux wasn’t cleared physically to join, but he thought that it was more likely that they didn’t trust him to not turn on them again, taking down the Rebellion from the inside. 

He didn’t blame him. He’d be concerned about the same thing. 

He stayed behind with the rest of the injured, staying close to the radio so he could listen to the communications of the pilots. 

He tried not to hope too much. 

He knew that Rey herself had disappeared onto the planet’s surface after broadcasting the coordinates for the Resistance fleet to follow, intent on taking on Palpatine herself. She was playing directly into his trap, and the only hope they had of stopping her was destroying the fleet and Exegol in one fell swoop. 

Hux wasn’t convinced it was possible. Even if it was, it wasn’t probable. 

Things turned. 

Hux pushed away from the communications tent. He couldn’t listen anymore, couldn’t bear to hear the last hope of the galaxy fade. 

When had he begun to see this, taking down the Final Order, as his desired goal? When had his desires shifted from wanting to rule the galaxy to wanting to take down Palpatine and his generations of manipulation? One ghastly man in the same vein as his ghastly father, shaping everything to his will. He had used every one of them with any sort of talent or influence or power to get his way, to ensure that no one person could ever truly be  _ powerful _ . 

It had all been an illusion. Being Supreme Leader meant nothing. The First Order meant nothing. The Knights of Ren, the Final Order… 

As good as Force projections. Useless targets at which to waste firepower, like Ren had done with his uncle. 

But now the scavenger had delivered herself unto him, and he would have all the power he needed to take over the galaxy once more. 

It was over. 

From the communications tent there rose a cheer. Hux froze, not wanting to believe it. 

It couldn’t be. 

He rushed back as quickly as he could and there were tears, cheers, hugs… so much joy. 

He searched for Mitaka and found him huddled with his First Order comm, listening in to the bridge of the  _ Supremacy.  _

Listening to them fall. 

Hux thought it would bring him more joy than it did. That wasn’t to say it didn’t bring him joy, but more than listening to the increasingly frantic voices of his former crew he wished to watch Pryde’s face as he slowly realized he had been bested by a ragtag gathering of civilian ships from across the galaxy led by a former spice runner and a former Stormtrooper. 

Watch him run as the ship began to implode, fire swelling and consuming the bridge until there was nothing left. Watch as he was lost forever to flame and to space and to time. 

The transmission went silent, and Mitaka laid aside his comm. “The Order has fallen,” he said solemnly. 

Hux wasn’t sure what to say. He rested his hand on Mitaka’s shoulder briefly before the other man stood. “Thank you for all that you have done for me, you made a very difficult choice,” Hux said. 

Mitaka met his gaze, his brow creased in a frown. “Deserting wasn’t difficult. Staying as long as I did, that was difficult. No one respected me, you were the only commander I ever had who spared me a second thought. Here, I have a chance. That girl from Hays Minor, Rose, they listen to her. They respect her. They listen to the Stormtrooper, and the spice runner, and droids and the Wookie. They respect each other, they work together. And I think… I think they’ll respect me too. I look forward to that.” 

Hux nodded once. “Well. They would be lucky to have you to assist them rebuild the galaxy,” he said with a tight smile, not quite sure what else to say. 

Mitaka’s smile seemed just as uncertain. 

Neither of them knew what to expect. 

They were setting off into uncharted space. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so afraid. 

\--- 

The fleet returned in weary waves. Hux helped where he was needed, repairing the ships heaviest hit and leaving those to mourn who required space more than assistance.

The majority of the rebels were overflowing with joy. The atmosphere felt lighter, the air easier to drag into his lungs. Perhaps his ribs were finally knitting back together. 

He saw the moment that the scavenger-- Rey-- stumbled from her ship looking like death warmed over, chin wobbling as she collapsed into the arms of Dameron and Finn. They held each other tightly, clinging, and Hux’s throat ached. 

He didn’t want to see this. It was cruel, having to see this. 

What had they lost? What had any of them really lost? 

“...Get him to a medical droid, he’s stable but he’s got broken bones I’m too weak to heal.” 

“Who?” Dameron asked, his brow furrowing a bit as he looked at Rey. 

Finn was already pulling away, heading towards the X-Wing. “It’s Kylo Ren.” 

“Ben,” Rey corrected, trailing after him. 

Hux’s vision tunnelled. Pinpricks. Through the commotion he saw Dameron notice him, noticed his look of concern and saw his mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying. 

Dameron wasn’t fast enough to keep him from collapse. 

\--- 

He had to be dreaming. He could hear Ren’s voice, low and rough from use somewhere to his left, but there was no way. He was dead, he’d been dead, he’d died… 

“He gave the very last of his life force to save me,” Rey’s voice chimed in, her accent so prim compared to the other voices he’d grown used to here among the rebels. “He’d been thrown over a cliff, and he used our connection to project himself using the Force to come back, and to bring me back. He gave me everything he had, and then he faded away. I’d thought he died.”    
  
“But there was a reserve that even I wasn’t aware that I had,” Ren said. He sounded different. Tired, and ancient. “When my mother passed she gave what was left of her power to me. As a last gift, her last attempt at saving me, bringing me back to the light. It was enough to cushion my fall. My heart is beating now because of her love.” 

Hux drew in a shaking breath and opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of the medical tent. 

“Hux is awake,” Finn’s voice sounded from the same direction as Rey’s. 

“You’re quite enjoying that, aren’t you?” Rey asked, a smile evident in her tone. 

Hux’s eyes burned and he took another, deeper breath, and it was then that he noticed that his ribs no longer ached. “I’m dead,” Hux said softly. “I’m dead and I am stuck in a medical tent with you lot for eternity. This is my punishment.” 

“You’re actually a little less dead than you were when you fainted out there,” Finn replied, moving over towards his bunk. “Rey talked me through the whole Force healing thing, which-- surprise, I can do. I finally told her I’m Force Sensitive. She’s going to train me.” 

“Excellent, just what we need,” Hux drawled, still not quite able to look over towards where he had heard Ren’s voice. “You were meant to be healing him, I’d wager.” 

“I told him I’d rather your wounds be seen to,” Ren said. “Hux, would you…?” 

“You’re dead, you died on Kef Bir like the idiot you are, Kylo Ren, you…” 

“Kylo Ren died there, I…” 

“You were in the middle of the bloody ocean!” Hux finally turned to look at him. Ren was propped up in his cot, arm in a sling and a leg splinted and bound. He was bruised and sickly pale but he was  _ alive _ . “What happened to your  _ face _ ?” 

Ren huffed out a surprised laugh, a smile twisting his lips. “It’s good to see you too. And I wasn’t in the middle of the ocean, my lightsaber was. That’s what you get for putting your tracker inside of it instead of on me.” 

“Ren, I swear…” 

“It’s Ben,” Rey cut in, resting a hand on the man’s ankle for emphasis. 

“Ben,” Hux echoed, meeting the man in question’s eyes for confirmation. He nodded once, swallowing thickly. “Fine. Well. When one of you lot have your powers all… powerful again you are going to heal him. No objections. He can’t heal himself, I do know that.” 

Rey cut her glance towards Ben. “I think we can manage something,” she said before standing, leaning her head towards the door to the tent. 

Hux didn’t need the Force to understand that particular signal, and Finn moved to follow her out. 

“We should talk,” Ben said softly as soon as they’d left. 

Hux shook his head. “I don’t want to talk.” 

Ben sighed, drooping a bit. He opened his mouth then closed it again. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his words sharp like shards of glass. He had been shattered completely and was trying to piece himself back together, but there were still sharp, jagged edges that could wound. Right now, Ben was only wounding himself. 

Hux blinked once. Twice. He climbed out of bed and when he felt no pain he glared at Ben. He’d allow him to wallow in his own pain for a bit, but not for long. “Your mother saved my life too,” he said softly, resting a hand over his chest. “She warned me about Pryde. She reminded me that I had no allies. She made sure I made it here, where I’d be safe.” 

Ben nodded, eyes wet but expression unreadable. 

Hux returned the nod and turned to leave. He expected Ben to ask him to stay. 

He didn’t. 

\--- 

“You’re the bloody general, your ship lookin like it’s taken fire is fine, but it shouldn’t look like it’s spent time  _ on fire _ .” 

Dameron’s BB unit trilled its offense before returning to its task. 

“He’s got a point,” Dameron said, motioning to the BB unit as he patted the blackened belly of his ship. “There’s nothing wrong with showing your age, everything you’ve gone through. She’s served me well.” 

Hux rolled his eyes. “No one’s disputing that fact. The mere sight of this ship infuriates me. But your ship is the flagship, in a way. There’s no need for your fleet to look like it’s been welded together from scraps. You are the ruling force in the galaxy.” 

“Listen Red, this is where the Resistance and the First Order are fundamentally different,” Dameron said, wiping his hands on the thighs of his jumpsuit. “We don’t think the galaxy needs someone to keep them under control. The Resistance exists to fight oppression, to keep the peace. Now that the war’s over we are no longer even a military organization. Things are going to change for the better.” 

Hux couldn’t help the skeptical twist of his lips, but he replaced the panel that covered the now-repaired circuitry and frowned down at his soot-covered hands. 

He startled a bit at the thundering approach of footsteps and relaxed when he saw Finn, wild-eyed and sweating. “What’s got you all worked up, buddy?” Dameron asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

“Rey…” Finn puffed out, looking from Dameron to Hux. They were both instantly on edge; that girl was always intent on finding trouble for herself. 

“What about Rey? Is she hurt?” Dameron asked, already preparing to storm off to the rescue. 

“No, she kissed him…” Finn said, mopping his brow as he looked towards Hux. 

When Dameron levelled a glare towards Hux, Hux held up his palms in a show of surrender. “She had done no such thing! Not me!” 

“No, not him…  _ Ben _ ,” Finn hissed. 

“Gross,” Dameron said, wrinkling his nose before casting an apologetic glance towards Hux. “No offense, Red.” 

Hux’s cheeks flamed. “How do you know anything about that?” he spluttered. 

Dameron’s look was unimpressed. “Come on. You swooned when you heard he was alive. Doesn’t take a genius.” 

“I didn’t  _ swoon _ , I…” 

Finn clapped his hands together in front of Dameron’s face, drawing his attention back. “Focus, Poe. She said they kissed because there had always been such a strong draw towards him, but she said it felt…” 

“Utterly repellant? Disgusting? Again, sorry Red.” 

Hux waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not interested in your childish gossip about the romantic conquests of the scavenger. Those two were clearly made for one another, overdramatic and rash Force users.” 

“He can’t use the Force,” Finn interjected. “Not anymore. They both just keep saying it’s lost to him.” 

Hux’s stomach lurched as he drew to a halt. “What?” Hux snapped, leveling a glare Finn’s way. 

“He can’t feel it anymore, he…” 

Hux held up a shaking hand and Finn fell silent. 

“So wait, did you tell Rey about us, what we…?” Dameron began, but Hux wasn’t interested in whatever romantic entanglements in which they had found themselves. 

He set off in the direction of the medical tent, his hands balled into fists at his sides. When he threw the flap of the tent open Ben startled, looking up from the book in his lap. His leg had been healed but he was still in a sling and bruised thoroughly. He looked like a child who had been caught doing something against the rules, eyes wide and sheepish. 

Silence stretched out between them, Hux’s eyes narrowed as he studied Ben, waiting for the telltale press between his eyes that indicated that he was not alone in his mind. 

It never came. 

“What?” Ben asked hesitantly, gently closing his book at setting it aside. He squared his shoulders, steeling himself. 

“What am I thinking?” Hux asked, his tone much stronger than he felt. 

Ben wilted, his gaze dropping to his hands as he folded them in his lap. “Please don’t tease me, not about this,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He had prod an open wound, a hurt that made Ben Solo feel as vulnerable as a child. 

Hux forced himself to unclench his fists as he came closer. “I’m not teasing you. Are you really so bad at reading me without help from the Force? I wanted to know if what Finn said was true for myself.” 

Ben’s expression went back to guarded in a snap. “What else did he say?” 

“Nothing that I care to consider ever again for the rest of my days,” Hux said in a confident rush. 

Ben had the good grace to laugh, his cheeks pink as he twisted his fingers together in his lap. “Things are going to be completely different now. Nothing like the old ways.” 

Hux’s eyes traced the downward slope of Ren’s shoulders in the frankly ridiculous jumper he’d taken to wearing after a droid had mended a hole in its middle. 

It was a security blanket, this Hux knew, but Ben could be allowed a few concessions. 

“Well, maybe it’s time to let the old ways die,” Hux replied. “No matter how frightening it may seem.” 

Ben’s hair curtained his face, but Hux could see his slight nod. “Will you come here?” Ben asked, not looking up. 

Hux took a few steps closer as he looked for a chair to bring over to his bedside. 

“No… here, with me,” Ben clarified, resting his hand on the sliver of cot to his side. 

“There isn’t room enough for me on there with you,” Hux replied, shaking his head. 

Ben waved toward a nearby empty cot. “So bring one of those over. I’ve scared everyone else off, there are plenty to choose from.” 

Hux opened his mouth and looked over to the cot. 

Ben read his hesitation and sank back down onto his cot. “You can say no. I am in no position to force you to do anything.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Hux said softly, unable to stop the words from escaping his lips. 

Ben made a soft sound, one of acknowledgement. Sadness. Appreciation, perhaps. “I don’t think it is possible to hurt more than I already do,” Ben said, his voice muddy with tears. 

“Well,” Hux huffed as he dragged over the cot, lining it up against Ben’s before toeing off his boots and climbing on. “I think, perhaps, it is time for you to feel that hurt.” 

Ben sniffled and rolled over, tucking himself against Hux’s side, trying and failing to weep in silence. 

“You’ll feel every inch of the hurt you’ve caused, just like I will,” Hux continued, combing his fingers through Ben’s tangled hair that was badly in need of a wash. “And we’ll come to the realization that no amount of tears or atonement or good deeds will negate any of what came before. All we can control is our next step. Our next choice. And soon enough the time for this grief and self-flagellation will have passed and it will come time to discover who really survived the carnage. When you wash away the blood and ashes, who is left behind? Who is Ben Solo?” 

Ben dragged a hand over his eyes. “Who is Armitage Hux?” he asked, his voice trembling. 

Hux shifted to drag a blanket over his legs. “I haven’t a clue, but he sounds like a twat.” 

Ben let out a phlegmy snort before looping his good arm around Hux’s waist. 

Hux gently scratched his scalp until Ben drifted to sleep. Hux drifted off as well. 

When he slept, he had no dreams. He had no nightmares. 

He had the only man he’d ever loved in his arms, and that was better than anything his subconscious or Ben’s subconscious could supply. 

\--- 

“Ben’s settled on where he wants to go, I think,” Rey said as she shred a blade of grass between her fingers. Her hair was whipping across her face and her eyes were narrowed as she watched Finn twirl Luke’s lightsaber, a wide smile on his face. Poe was reclined on the forest floor, tossing little bots in the air for him to strike down. “I don’t blame him for wanting to go, even though he’s helpful with training.” 

He wasn’t currently being very helpful. He was stretching out tense muscles and testing newly-mended bones as he watched Dameron poke and tease Finn. “Did he give you that little figurine Leia left for you?” 

Rey nodded. “He said Han carved it. Thank goodness he didn’t try to do that as a job, it’s… something.” She huffed out a laugh. “But it’s nice. They both took me under their wing. They both poured so much love into me, like I was their own. It’s nice to have something that’s a piece of both of them.”    
  
Hux nodded once, not sure what to say. Ben glanced over in their direction, offering Hux a small smile before picking up Rey’s bowstaff, resting it on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t stop I will absolutely let Ben hit you over the head until you are unconscious,” Dameron snapped, rolling over quickly as Finn whacked one of the bots directly at him with an amused peal of laughter. 

“They’re going to kill each other the moment Ben’s not here to run interference,” Hux muttered, tugging the sleeves of his shirt down when the sun began to burn his forearms. His skin was not made for this sort of sun, and his new crop of freckles were evidence of that fact. 

Rey laughed, shaking her head a bit. “They love each other far too much for that. They’d never.” She watched them scuffle fondly, and Hux arched a brow when he noticed a flush high on her cheekbones. 

Well then. It took all sorts. 

“He’s going to ask you to go with him, you know,” Rey said, wrapping her arms around her knees as she looked over at Hux. “Will you go?”    
  
Hux took a deep breath as he watched Ben begin to spar with Finn, narrating his every move in low, calm tones. “I told Rose I’d look over some plans she’s been drafting, I should go,” Hux said as he stood. “It’s getting too hot for me.” 

He could feel Rey’s eyes on him as he left but she didn’t try to get him to stay. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent reviewing anything that Rose put in front of him, his mind still down in the forest with Ben. Rose was pulled away by a dinner invitation by Mitaka, and Hux excused himself with a little smile. The sun was setting and he let out a relieved sigh as he walked along the trail that led to the tent he’d claimed for himself. 

Ben hadn’t made an appearance, and he hadn’t expected him to. 

He was gathering things for a bath when he heard a gentle clearing of a throat. He turned and saw Ben standing in the doorway. “Rey said she scared you off,” Ben said with a wry grin. 

“She didn’t scare me off,” Hux said, shaking his head a bit as he draped his clothes over his arm, not quite able to look him in the eye as he spoke. 

“Hux…” Ben said softly. “Just… let me say this and if when I’m finished and you don’t want anything to do with me, you’ll never have to see me again. Alright?” 

Hux looked up at him, taking a slow breath. He nodded once. 

Ben mirrored his nod, the sleeves of his jumper pulled down low over his hands. “I don’t know who I am. I don’t know if I will ever know. But I know I can’t discover that here. I have to go. I have to go and I want you to go with me. I think Rey already told you that.” 

Hux nodded. “She did, yes.” 

Ben nodded, heaved in a breath and lowered his eyes. “Okay. Well. I don’t know who I am, but… I would be honored if you would take me as I am. Maybe… maybe we could figure out who we are now, together.” 

Hux was silent as he watched Ben’s spine straighten, watched him meet Hux’s eyes steadily. 

Something in Ben’s gaze shifted and he smiled slightly. “I’m going to leave next week. Think about it, okay? Please.” 

“I will,” Hux promised, nodding. “I swear I will.” 

Ben’s smile was bright, and Hux’s heart broke. 

\--- 

Hux bid farewell to Mitaka. 

He had no belongings to bring. 

He made his way to where he knew Ben was preparing the Falcon for departure, his stomach in knots. 

He didn’t know why he was so nervous. 

He could hear Rey’s voice coming from inside the ship and Hux couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Of course she was buzzing around. 

But then her voice fell silent. 

Ben came out of the ship, eyes wide. 

He looked surprised. Surprised, like Hux would have gone anywhere else. 

Ben was moving towards him and Hux was moving towards him and Hux found himself swept into Ben’s arms, held so tightly that it was hard to breathe, kissed so deeply it was hard to think.

It was the most delicious ache. 

\---

There was a cool breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees that towered overhead, the sound not unlike the dry husks of insects as they prepared to take flight. It was that awkward time between summer and autumn, the mornings cool and afternoons warm enough to drive Hux into the deepest parts of the forest when it grew too hot to continue work on the Falcon. 

Ben had wanted nothing to do with its reconstruction. “I’ve witnessed the sorts of things that Chewie would do to keep that ship in the sky, I’m not sure it’s salvageable.” 

“It’s survived this long,” Hux replied with a shrug, ignoring the clatter of some bolt or another falling through the grates of the floor. 

He had his work cut out for him, sure, but he had nothing but time. And he took his time. Anything done was worth doing right. 

It was hard to come by some of the parts, partly because of the age of the ship and partly because they were on Endor, but he had learned to be patient. Life was much slower here, and there was much to be savoured. 

Ben was quiet. Younger in many ways and so much older in others. When he’d sat in the pilot’s seat of the Falcon and hung the golden dice that had belonged to Han Solo in the place where they presumably belonged, Hux expected something. Tears, happy or sad. An acknowledgement of him coming full circle, taking over his father’s mantle. 

He’d only winced slightly at the sound the engine made as it flared to life and set them off in a direction that would take them far, far away. 

When the ship was finished Ben had suggested they take some jobs. Smuggling, presumably. The thought of it exhausted Hux, but he wouldn’t mind travelling across the galaxy with Ben at his side, bringing goods to planets that desperately needed them. It was something small he could do to atone for all of the big he had done previously. 

It was a passing thought. Endor was enough for now. The Falcon needed plenty of work. 

Hux was soldering together a piece he couldn’t find anywhere that he ended up fabricating himself when he felt a gentle hand settle on his shoulder briefly, nothing more than a tap. “Anything?” he asked, laying aside his iron and stretching his fingers. 

“There will never be anything,” Ben said, leaning against Hux’s tidy work table. “It’s just meditation. I’m not searching for anything, there’s nothing there for me to find anymore. The Force is lost to me.” 

Hux expected to hear sadness in his tone, but there was none. Just recognition, and resignation. “Well…” Hux began, brushing his knuckles against the side of Ben’s thigh. “Is that so bad?” 

Ben’s lips twitched slightly. The barest hint of a smile. The framework of one that would fill out more and more with each passing day. 

At least Hux hoped so. 

“Well, no,” Ben said with a shrug. “There is nothing there for me to find. But I think I have found enough. Other things that I thought were lost to me forever.” 

Hux felt heat rise in his cheeks, then the slide of Ben’s soft fingertip along his cheekbone. Just as quickly as he’d raised his hand to touch it was gone and he was standing, pushing away from the table. “Are you hungry?” Hux asked him, the mention of food making his own stomach growl. Time had gotten away from him, as it had a habit of doing. 

Ben held out his hands for Hux’s. “Come on, let’s see what we can find.” 

Hux took his hands. “You make lunch sound like an adventure.” 

Ben’s gaze was soft, and he didn’t have to put the thought into Hux’s head for him to know exactly what he was thinking. 

_ Every new day is.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was heavily inspired by the soundtrack to the most recent remake of 'A Star is Born', namely the song 'Is That Alright?' If some of the lines sound familiar, that may be why. 
> 
> I would like to dedicate this story to  hollycomb  who is the reason I became interested in this pairing at all. Star Wars isn't my thing, but Kylux is because of her. Thank you. 
> 
> I would also like to specially thank my friend Hannah Solo, my space father who has granted me the most incredible support and advice. I have roasted her for so long for her love of Star Wars and now I begrudgingly understand the obsession. 
> 
> I referenced the novelizations greatly in the writing of these stories, and they do differ slightly in content and dialogue from the movies. In some cases I met in the middle. 
> 
> Some timelines have been condensed a bit for dramatic purposes, and some handwaving has been employed to make certain aspects of a plot that doesn't make sense make more sense to me. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every one of you going on this journey with me.


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